The Last House on Blackberry Lane
by shouldbecleaning
Summary: A small New England town, a house shrouded in mystery and a young man who is come from away.
1. Chapter 1

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 1

I don't clearly remember the journey to Aunt Esme's new house. Nor do I really remember the illness that brought me there. But I will, as certain as snow in the mountains, remember the events of the fall after I recovered. They were equal parts horrible and wonderful and led to where I am now.

The early new year of 1923 I was twenty-two years old, almost twenty-three, a veteran of the Great War, a law student and the son of loving parents. Against my mother's wishes I had enlisted in the army five days after my eighteenth birthday. My father, behind my mother's back, was proud but concerned. They both worried needlessly. My war effort was well away from any action. I think my father's influence was in play as I was stationed in England and assigned to a quartermaster. I spent my war counting inventory and shipping much needed supplies to the fighting men. My tour of duty was only four and a half months.

At first I was sorely disappointed but was taken down a notch by a heavily scarred corporal who described in vivid detail just how lucky I was. I was also set to work with several of the fund and supply raising efforts. They told me they needed a fresh face to encourage those left behind to work harder to support the troops. I was a reminder of the boys who were lost yet, whole and handsome in my pristine uniform. I charmed rich widows and danced with sobbing socialites in an effort to help fund the war. I didn't mind this work as much. I had long been the object of female curiosity and admiration although I hadn't fallen prey to any of them yet. My mind was on more important things like the war rather than losing my senses over a paramour. The girls at home were nice but none of them had caught my eye.

But I digress.

When the armistice was signed I wasn't needed anymore. I got my ship assignment and was home by Christmas. I started law school at Loyola with a giant class of returning soldiers. I graduated within the top ten percent of the class, which had greatly diminished over the three year course. I was in the process of securing a judicial clerkship when I fell ill. It was horrible and I prayed for death to take me. Typhoid fever. Coughing, bowel flux, vomiting, high fever and pain; lots and lots of pain. After over a month of illness, I was a shadow of my former self. I had never been a man of great physical stature. I was tall but always slim. My illness left me dangerously thin to the point of emaciation. It was decided by my parents and doctors that a Chicago summer with its high heats and threats of drought would be very detrimental. Also that my health would not be improved enough by winter to survive that season either. Therefore, while still suffering the effects of sickness but on the mend and accompanied by a newly graduated Doctor and matron nurse, I was sent to stay with my Aunt Esme, my mother's sister, to a lovely small New England town to recover.

To protect the families, the townsfolk and everyone else involved, I won't tell you exactly where I stayed. Imagine quaint, picturesque but rugged with charm. Clapboard houses and maple trees should be brought to mind.

The student doctor I don't remember, not either the train or saying goodbye to my parents. I don't remember arriving and being greeted by my Aunt and Uncle. I do, however, have a few memories of the Matron. Or rather, I have memories of a certain part of her anatomy. She had the most voluminous breasts I had ever seen. I recall only one conversation with her. She had been leaning over me, wiping my brow with her tremendous breasts in my field of vision. In actuality, there were my sole focus that afternoon. She had turned to re-moisten the cloth and noticed where my eyes were drawn to and she laughed. She then looked down the length of my body and lean down to whisper in my ear.

"If you can pitch a tent like that, my boy, I know you're on the mend. And I pity the poor virgin you deflower with that tool."

Then, as she pulled back, she winked at me. I had never encountered a woman so crass before. The rest of the trip was a blur and that was my only outstanding recollection, mortifying as it is. My body may have kept me in an unconscious state to prevent further stimulation. It had been a long time since my little soldier had saluted.

My next memory was of my aunt Esme tending to me. I have brief glimpses of her kind face hovering over me, of warm washcloths and spoonfuls of broth. As sick as I was, I remember the feeling of love she gave me while she took care of me. She was a naturally nurturing person. She volunteered as a nursing aide during the war to help care for the returning wounded. When a great explosion in nearby Halifax devastated the city, she spent days helping to organize the relief effort. She also helped tend the orphans left by the Spanish Flu when it ravished the country. They were living in Boston then, so it was before they moved further north to the small town in which they now lived. The town in which I came to stay during my convalescence and subsequently became embroiled in its mystery. The town I came to love and hate all at the same time. The town that gave me her.

 **AN: I know I need to finish Uncredited but this came to me and would not leave. The chapters are short but the story will update every other day.**

 **Writtenbyabdex has a gorgeous story called Lost Loves of Meadow Lane. It is is progress and well worth the wait between chapters. She also had lots of other stories to read. And she is a sweetheart who is very giving of her time and knowledge.**

 **IpsitaC77 read this before it posted. For her, for beachomberlc, for Lunabev, and for my other friends, I thank you.**

 **This story has not been beta'ed so there will be mistakes. I'm human therefore I make plenty mistakes. Please be kind if you feel you have to point them out. I use Canadian spelling and phrases. I am taking poetic license with Edward's legal education, go with it.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 2

It was April when I made the journey to the east coast and May by the time my senses fully returned. I was as weak as a newborn kitten. My aunt tended to all of my needs, much to my embarrassment. She fed me buckets of beef tea until I could handle more solid offerings. Gruel, soups, and chowders gave way to eggs on toast and fishcakes. Just after the toast stage I was allowed more hearty fare and that thoroughly improved my disposition. Especially when I was allowed dessert.

Their maid, Charlotte, cleaned the room and help to change the sheets. She chatted merrily as she did. Her visits were a highlight to my otherwise dull day. She wasn't a very pretty girl nor was she intelligent or engaging, but she was sweet and kind. Sometimes I could hear her chirping to herself as she cleaned. She had a romantic understanding with Peter, the man who work in the yard and maintained my uncle's motorcar. He was a nice enough bloke but very short on words. I don't think I've heard more than about a dozen come from him at any given time. I supposed Charlotte speaks his share on top of hers.

My uncle came every night and read, sometimes aloud, the cases he was currently working. Uncle Carlisle had recently taken over the docket of district judge and was very thorough in his research. He was New England born and raised but was educated in Chicago at Loyola as well. The town forgave him for that transgression, leaving to go away to school, after a bit of hard campaigning. He meet my aunt at a tea dance there. It was love at first sight, or so they both said, I never really believed in the phenomena myself. Esme was working as hard as a drudge to be accepted into local society. However she knew, and my uncle would often remind her, she's come from away and always will be. Time was the thing she needed to be accepted by the local women, or at least the ability to produce a damn fine chowder.

Mid-May we received a telegram stating the both my parents had contracted and died of Typhoid fever themselves. I was inconsolable for days after thinking it was my fault. I thought I had brought the sickness into the house and run away from them. I got myself into such a state that my Uncle Carlisle had to slap me to stop me from screaming. After I calmed and he explained the secondary outbreak that plagued Chicago was not my fault, I was better. Not quite myself for I would never be the same man I was before but I pulled myself into a reasonable facsimile. Carlisle took charge of their estate on my behalf. He arranged all the house contents to be shipped and stored here until such time as I had my own home. The house and my father's legal practice were sold and the money transferred to my name. It mattered not a whit to me but I was then a wealthy man. I never wanted to return to Chicago.

Finally, I was able to stand and walk about my room. I had gained back some of the weight I had lost but I had no stamina. From the bed to the chair by the window was more than enough exercise to tire me. I napped often, in the warm sun that streamed through the window. I got to the point where I napped enough to trouble my nightly sleep.

From my sickbed I had a perfect direct sight line over the high stone wall that bordered my uncle's property, to the upper part of the window of the house next door. I didn't know if the house was abandoned or what the ownership was but during the time I spent supine, I never saw light in any of the four upstairs windows. The curtains never parted when I was looking and no one ever opened them to let in air. When I was sitting in the chair at the window, I had a slightly different view of the house. I could see a sliver of the downstairs windows and the tops of scraggly bushes that seemed to be slowly swallowing the house with ravenous ivy in partnership. The white paint on the house seemed dull and in need of a refresh, like it had seen too many winters without replenishment.

The house made me feel sad but I couldn't quite put my finger onto why I would feel that way about a building I had never entered.

On a particularly warm spring day my uncle borrowed a wheelchair from the local hospital. He and Peter helped me down the stairs to the front of the house. He, once I had been sufficiently bundled by my aunt, took me on a tour of the driveway that lead down to the road. I was able to see the house that had now become my home. It was large but not audacious. It was three storeys high. It was painted a cornflower blue with white trim, My room was on the second floor as was my aunt and uncle's room and the guest rooms. Matching square turrets framed the house at opposite corners. Charlotte had her room in one of those turrets whereas Peter lived in town. I had been at their house for five weeks before I got a real glimpse of Blackberry Lane and the last house at the very top.

 **Thank you for such an overwhelming response. Have you read anything by MeteorOnAMoonlessNight? She has two stories in progress right now that are well worth a lookyloo, as well as her finished works.**

 **For beachcomberlc, IpsitaC77, Lunabev and JulieToo.**

 **I know it takes a heck of a lot to earn the trust of an New Englander and I hope my little joke regarding chowder hasn't offended.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	3. Chapter 3

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 3

In the full green leaf of spring, the austere stone wall surrounding the last house on Blackberry Lane was incongruous. Its wrought iron gate was a grimace on an already unfriendly facade. The gate was taller than the wall with a pair of swans adorning the top. They were not normal swans, graceful, beautiful and delicate, no these swans were heavy and clumsy-looking. I had seen fences with swans in relief facing each other with their necks bowed in such a way that a heart could be imagined between them. These swans were looking over their own back, their head facing away from each other. The other thing that troubled me was the thick chain and heavy lock that secured the gate.

The lane itself was odd to me. It wound about with houses dotting either side. The streets I was used to were linear. The last house capped the lane like a capital T. When questioned, my uncle gave me just enough history but little explanation.

The house was originally an extension of a much larger mansion that had been razed many years ago. Some sort of fungus or rot had overtaken the walls and the occupants grew ill. The out buildings were salvaged and renovated when the parcel of land was sold for building lots. The side view I had been afforded from my bed deceptively hid the rest of the house. There were many additions and corridors behind the structure I could see. From the road the house looked like a scattered pile of building blocks as if every generation added its own part to extend the whole. My uncle explained why the out buildings were attached; to keep from having to go out in the frigid winter temperatures.

The stone wall was a relic from an older time of horse driven carriages and wide skirts. The barony class of the area had built these large homes in the woods while they plundered for lumber and fish. Many did not foresee the salted air wreaking havoc with the building materials themselves so when these lush palaces began to crumble they turned tail and moved south or west.

The judge over whose bench my uncle was presiding, lived behind that stone wall. There had been some tragedy, some trouble to forced him from his position and from society entirely. Just over a year ago Judge Swan vacated his post, pad-locked his gate and withdrew. He became Justice Swan and reviewed cases in the privacy of his own home. Very few people had seen him or his family since. No one knew why and no one asked aloud in public. New England towns all have secrets, some well known and some not. They do not part with them easily or frivolously. One has to earn, to work and toil to be granted such knowledge. They protect their own as they protect their town. My uncle, while from these parts, was not privy to everything and he knew enough not to pry. It wasn't his business.

When I asked how goods were delivered or how one could visit, my uncle gave me an enigmatic smile and said 'You can't get there from here', and changed the topic of conversation.

I got no further into the story when I asked Charlotte later although she augmented my uncle's story by mentioning a wife and daughter behind the wall. This helped shape a picture in my mind and allowed my imagination to run wild with scenarios. It kept me entertained while I still convalesced.

I made use of the wheelchair for only two weeks before I ventured out with a walking stick and a firm grasp on my uncle's arm. Every time I went out I was able to go further and longer away from the house before tiring. Then came a time when I was able to add a morning constitutional to my evening walks, these were with my aunt as attendant, Peter always seemed to have work to do in the front of the house for those walks. Then I was taking all my meals in the dining room and no longer sleeping during the day.

I would stare at the gate, the desolate house and the towering stone wall when ever I could, trying to parse together a plausible story as to what happened there to drive a learned man to isolation and forcing it on his family to boot. I had a researcher's mind, that is why the law appealed to me, not a writer's mind. I just couldn't come up with something satisfactory enough to make me stop thinking about that house.

I half-halfheartedly thought I would go mad with wonder. I may well have had if my illness had continued longer. However, my recovery kept my senses together and brought other challenges that took the house from the forefront to a tickle at the back of my mind. My uncle brought me books, legal books for me to research local codes. It was a perfect opportunity, I could take the bar after I had found my clerkship apprentice, and then license in several of the surrounding states. I set to work, reading tome after tome until my head drooped.

One night, it happened so quickly that I honestly thought I had imagined it, I saw something that brought the mystery of the house next door back to my attention. I was nodding off over slim books of torts and the lantern was growing dim when I heard a noise. A metal against metal noise. I blew the lantern out and craned my head out the window in time to see a flash of white against the closest edge of the gate. There was a very faint glow behind the wall that bobbed and weaved for a moment. There was a flash of white again. Then the glow was gone and the night was quiet again.

 **AN: My rec. for today - Rescue Ink by gabby1017. I've only read the first chapter but it was enough to know I had to wait to read it all at once. There were be no way I could wait patiently for updates. I hope it's near the end and I can get my grubby fat hands on it soon.**

 **My admiration for IpsitaC77, beachcomberlc, LunaBev and JulieToo. As well, my adoration for everyone who took the time to review.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	4. Chapter 4

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 4

I watched the gate every night for a while before falling asleep but I didn't see the flash of white again. I have to admit that I let my studies slack while I kept an eye on the house, in hopes of seeing something, anything again. It was to no avail.

Three weeks later, my family and I celebrated, sombrely, my twenty-third birthday. I had gained back some of the weight I had lost while ill. I had much more energy than I'd had in months. I no longer needed a helping hand for my walks although I still employed the stick, just in case. I wasn't one hundred percent just yet. My uncle guided me through all my investments and holdings the day after my birthday. It had been enough time for me to stomach the loss and concentrate, even as it pulled at my emotions. He had also made tentative arrangements with a few lawyers and another judge for my clerkship. However, none of them were nearby. I would have to board or move house to gain the hours I needed to approach the bar. It angered me that I could not clerk with my uncle, alas, even though we were not blood related he could not be my mentor for this. It was one of the more odd and personally annoying statutes I found.

One night, perhaps a week-and-a-half later, I was woken by a loud knocking on the back door. My uncle was still awake and he was able to answer it so I didn't bother to get my robe on or try to get downstairs to interfere. I knew Carlisle would find me if he needed me. I wasn't strong enough to be a real help, but I would have, if asked. I could hear him speaking to a man but I could not hear any substance of their conversation.

The next morning, over breakfast, my aunt informed me that there had been a death in the house next door. She and Charlotte would be lending a hand there, if they were welcome and I was to fend for myself for the day. I did and they were, so we met again at supper and I was given more information then. Mrs. Charles Swan, née Renee Higginbotham, had passed away peacefully after a troubling illness. She hadn't been seen about town in over a year, perhaps two. Esme could not remember the last time she had spoken to Mrs. Swan. The service would be in a few days with a memorial to be held at the county's lone Catholic church hall. Mrs. Swan was a lapsed Catholic, having converted when she married. The priest was kind enough to loan out the hall as the house wasn't fit for such a gathering.

The days following were dizzy with cooking and preparations. I took my walks alone but spent much time in the kitchen filching tastes and judging seasonings. Sad as I was over the loss of life, I enjoyed the making of the funeral feast.

The day of the funeral was overcast and dreary. The weather was befitting the occasion and my mood. I woke up angry and couldn't quite put my finger on why. I dressed in my best black suit and looked ridiculous. The last time I wore it, I didn't need either a belt or suspenders to keep my trousers up, now I needed both. My aunt had to pin my waistcoat at the back so I no longer looked like a gangly teen trying on his father's clothes. My hair had been neglected during my illness and no amount of pomade could tame it. It was too long and unruly for a funeral. My hat would only shield me out of doors and not at all during the service. There was nothing I could do but hope and pray that my dishevelment went unnoticed. I would sit in the back, as I wasn't close family or friend and pay my respects from there.

My aunt and uncle were agreeable to my plan. When we arrived at the church Carlisle led Esme to a pew closer to the front as I hung back, hat in hand. There wasn't the crowd I had expected for the wife of a pillar of the community but who was I to judge, for I hadn't even been to my own parents' funerals. My aunt and uncle had arranged a service back in Chicago and we held a private memorial here but I was feeling guilty just the same. As a dutiful son, I should have been there. It is a failing I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

I sat in the second-to-last pew on the very far end. I could watch all the mourners from there and pay my respects privately. I'd attended church occasionally in Chicago, whenever I couldn't avoid it and only at my mother's insistence. I don't espouse any religion particularly, they all seem to be similar shades of each other. I'm certain, like my father before me, if my wife wanted church in our life I'd go but left to my own devices, I prefer an extra cup of coffee and a good novel on a Sunday morning.

Sitting there in the church, my hat in hand and my hair a mess, in my ill-fitting suit is where I first saw her. She was wearing a wide-brimmed hat with a thin veil covering her entire head and shoulders. She was dressed all in black, of course, but her dress was not quite up to style like the other ladies at the service, for the collar seemed very high. What I noticed most was the way she carried herself. For most of the service I could only see the back of her head, the hat and her hair, sometimes her profile. But the way she held her head up with poise and grace, not bowed or humbled, caught my eye. At the end of the service she walked down the aisle after the coffin on the arm of an older man, presumably her father; she really caught my attention. She looked straight ahead, not looking at any of the mourners, the coffin or the pallbearers. She had a look of defiance in her dry eyes.

She was intriguing and though I didn't know it at the time, destined to be mine.

 **AN: beachcomberlc has graciously offered to edit and beta this story for me, yet again coming to my rescue. IpsitaC77 is my favourite cheerleader. Lunabev keeps my spirits up.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	5. Chapter 5

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 5

I have never been glad-handed so much in one afternoon as I was at the memorial service for Mrs. Charles Swan. Even in my post-illness frailty I was sought after by many a mother eager to bride her daughter. I was the shiny new toy and I do believe that Mrs. Charles Swan was an afterthought for most in attendance, although I did hear many whispers about her husband and daughter. The fathers were quick to make my acquaintance as well, as the only nephew of the local judge and soon-to-be lawyer myself, I was seen as a man to know. I managed to escape with a fortuitous coughing fit and found myself in a darkened room with a piano. I sat for a while gently pressing the keys with no tune in mind. Mother had forced years of piano lessons on me. I could play passably well when I had the inclination but I had no such propensity that day. I didn't notice my company until he leaned against the piano.

The man wasn't very tall, shy of my six foot, I could surmise from my seat. He had the look of a man who had once been stout and a bit on the portly side, but had withered since. His hair was overlong, like mine, but his was a riot of flattened curls in varying shades of brown and grey. His eyes were bleary and rimmed with red although there were no tears dried on his cheeks. He had shaved, but very poorly, as there were neglected areas on his jaw and several nicks about his face. His suit was black, rumpled and there was a drop of dried egg yolk on his tie.

I knew he was Justice Swan, and not just because I had seen him walking behind Mrs. Swan's coffin. One could tell at an instant that this was a bereaved man.

"Do me a kindness boy? Play "Daisy Bell" for me." He asked in a gravelly voice.

So, I did. I played it from memory as best I could, a little out of tempo and with a few mistakes. I could see out of the corner of my eye Mr. Swan mouthing the words as I played. When I finished, he thanked me and left the room as quietly as he entered. I sat for a while longer before venturing out to find my aunt and uncle. I searched the gathering for either Justice Swan or his daughter, but could find neither hide nor hair of them.

My family and I returned to the house and spent the day in our own pursuits quietly apart from each other. I read in my room, glancing at the house next door as often as every sentence as I pretended to read. There was still no movement or sign of the occupants, which in and of itself did not disturb me, but I'd hoped that I would see something of the girl. I was thirsty for more of the story. I wanted, no needed, to know what had happened to lead Justice Swan to exile himself and his women behind the neglected facade of their home.

Dinner was a sombre affair of cold meats and other funeral leftovers. At my uncle's insistence, we drank a bit too much homemade fruit wine and retired early for the night. They seemed to know that attending a funeral so soon after my parents' death would be trying for me. I loved them for that.

The next morning, my uncle knocked on my door as I was dressing for breakfast. He asked me to meet him in his office after breakfast and not to mention anything to my aunt about it. I agreed, of course, and mum's the word. Breakfast was more leftover funeral food refashioned and repurposed into a new meal. I hoped Charlotte had a bit more creativity in the kitchen because I could get rather tired of this fare soon.

Carlisle met me in his office and told me of a note he had received very early that morning. It was from Justice Swan. He was offering, actually the tenor of the note was more demanding than offering, to allow me to clerk for him in his home so that I might gain the necessary hours to take the state bar. He was also offering the full use of his extensive personal library so that I might study. He had law books and codes from each of the six New England states as well as several other neighbouring states. I was to report to him Monday following next at 8 a.m. and would be released at 5 p.m. daily, with a half day on Saturday. If I applied myself I would have sufficient hours before the new year.

I listened, dumbfounded, to my uncle list the terms of Justice Swan's offer and then read the note myself. I was honoured and frankly, a little frightened by the idea. However, I wouldn't have to move to a larger city and could still stay within the bosom of my family, which was something I still needed.

Uncle Carlisle penned an appropriate response and called for Peter to deliver the note. It was the topic of conversation over the dinner table, with my aunt asking all sorts of difficult questions to which I had few answers.

I watched the house next door for a very long time that night, longer than I usually did, hoping for some sort of sign or signal. There was none that I caught. I wondered how long I would have to wait to get answers to the questions that really plagued me. How long it would take to learn all the secrets of the house that so captured my imagination?

 **AN: Many thanks to everyone involved with this story, beachcomberlc, IpsitaC77, and, you the reader.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	6. Chapter 6

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 6

That Friday found my aunt excitedly knocking at my door at the crack of dawn. She presented me with a tray and an edict. We were to leave shortly to go to the nearest city for a day trip. There would be lots of sightseeing and shopping. I was not amused but drank my coffee and ate my breakfast as quickly as I could so not to delay the trip. I confess I napped in the back of my uncle's motorcar. It was rather comfortable, although getting in through the center door was a bit of trial for a man of my stature.

The trip took just over three hours at top speeds of twenty-four miles per hour. It could have been quicker, however my aunt did not want her husband to speed and she got quite shirty every time she felt we were going too fast. Having been raised with horse and buggy, she didn't appreciate the speed of motorcars.

The city itself was unremarkable to me, especially after the bustle and commotion of Chicago. My aunt dragged me to a men's clothing shop, having me measured and fitted for a few new suits. The hold of the car could barely contain everything she purchased. The rest would be delivered as soon as the tailor could finish sewing. A trip to an old barber was next and very overdue.

After a sumptuous dinner we stayed the night in a nice hotel. The next afternoon, after being dragged to the small city's few notable sights by Aunt Esme, we then started our journey home by visiting an old friend of my uncle's.

The friend turned out be a former client and a very unhappy man. He had purchased a vehicle for himself, a sleek 1922 coupe, that his wife hated. They fought for weeks before he saw the error of his ways and wanted the motorcar sold as soon as possible. My uncle convinced me that I needed a car of my own for the start of my adult life. The man had been bilked by the seller and overpaid for the car. However, he was so desperate to be rid of it and as a favour to my uncle, we settled on a price of four hundred fifty dollars. Carlisle just happened to have my chequebook in his pocket and encouraged me to spend the money. It was the most money I had ever spent in a single transaction. It was equal parts thrilling and terrifying to see my cheque in a stranger's hand. I had yet to wrap my head around my own wealth.

I had never felt so free or so masculine as I did that afternoon as I sped down the road at thirty miles per hour, leaving my aunt and uncle far behind. I arrived twenty eight minutes before they did. I adored my flivver, she was sleek and shiny black. I could picture courting a young lady by taking her for a drive and having her pressed against me slightly as I impressed her with my driving prowess. I could keep a blanket or a rug in the hold for picnics by the shore. I could picture stealing a kiss as I helped her out of the car or a good look at her backside or a pinch if I was really cheeky. Although any one of those could warrant me a good slap across the face.

As I waited for my aunt and uncle, I sat on the bumper and thought of a good name for my special new girl, my car. I thought of some of the girls I went to school with and former acquaintances. None really stood out. I hadn't courted or had a special girl before I joined the army and precious little time since then to find a girl, even before taking ill. I wanted a fun name, after all she was my good-time girl, but not an irreputable name. Not a name that might conjure images of burlesque or anything else risque. A sweet fun entertaining girl who was reliable and affable. I decided on Alice. The car looked like an Alice. A girl who would keep you close to her heart and care for you even if she found her one true love with another fellow. A girl who would be there through thick or thin, a lady, not a loose woman.

I was deep in my odd thoughts when they drove up. So involved was I that I neglected to stare over at the house that I would finally be entering just the day after tomorrow. There wasn't time, however, as my aunt put me to work as soon as her feet hit the fine gravel of the drive. All my new clothes had to be pressed and hung in my closet. My ties had to be arranged and my shoes shined. I spent the better part of the rest of the weekend elbow-deep in bootblack and celluloid collars. She even made me learn how to iron my own shirts and mend a button. She was a taskmaster, a formidable overseer just short of being a tartar. The only real break I got was when my uncle accompanied me to the alternate entrance to the Swan house. It was accessible through the back entrance off the next lane over. It was strange to me that I couldn't just walk the three hundred feet through the gate, but perhaps the reasons why would be one of the mysteries I would now be able to solve.

Come Monday morning all my vestments were ordered by colour and use, ready at a moment's notice. As tired as I was, I appreciated the work and effort as I dressed for the day. I wore an older, but clean and still serviceable suit. With a kiss from my aunt and a firm handshake from my uncle, I was off to begin the next phase of my life as a judicial clerk.

 **AN: A few people were unfamiliar with the phrase 'come from away' that I used to describe Edward in the summary. It mean he's not a local, wasn't born in the area, and not in the know. I think it's used more here in Atlantic Canada than in New England but I thought it fitting for this story.**

 **Speaking of born, bornonhalloween has a story out called Old School. You know, as with all of Born's stories, it will be hot and sweet at the same time.**

 **beachcomberlc has tirelessly slogged through the first ten chapters and caught a multitude of mistakes. I so desperately need her I don't know why I ever start a story without her. My thanks to her, JulieToo, Lunabev and IpsitaC77.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	7. Chapter 7

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 7

The house was no less neglected and forlorn from the side entrance as it was from the front. The gate was only wide enough to allow one person at a time to enter the property. I wondered how it was that they received any supplies other than one box at a time. Perhaps there was a back entrance I knew nothing of. Perhaps over the next few months I would learn all the secrets of this mysterious house and its people. Maybe, just maybe I would get to see the girl again, and soon.

I knocked on the door, hat in hand, and waited a very long time before Justice Swan answered. I was shocked to have him answer his own door. I would have thought that a man of his stature would have a girl or a man of his own to perform such menial tasks. He stared at me for a while before recognizing me and asking to me to enter.

The house was reasonably clean. Much cleaner than I thought it would be based on the outside and what little I had seen of the owner. Justice Swan was wearing trousers that had not seen a pressing in quite awhile and a shirt that had; although the collar was stained and not starched. He wore the same yolk-decorated tie as he had last week at his wife's funeral. The single drop of egg had been joined by three others since. He had not combed his hair since I had seen him last, or so I guessed from the look of him. His moustache was in need of a trim and his eyes were sad, but he greeted me warmly and bade me enter. He led me to his office and let me look around. I had expected much more neglect in his office but I found little. There were no mouldering teacups or plates. The rug had been swept and the fire tended to recently. The floor to ceiling bookshelves looked as though they had been dusted but by someone shorter than me; I could see a thin film of dust on the shelf just above my eyeline.

I learned nothing of the law that first day. Instead, I was interrogated thoroughly by Justice Swan. I could see the formidable trial lawyer he must have been in his day. He was able to squeeze every bit of information out of me from my family history to books that I had read as a child. I felt drained by the time he mentioned breaking for lunch.

I had hoped that his daughter would join us for lunch but the table was set for two only. A small buffet was laid with dishes both hot and cold. I noticed Justice Swan ate very little. I found the food to be quite tasty and enjoyed it immensely. After I finished, he led me back into his office and started the interrogation again. A sharp knock at the door at four o'clock gave me a reprieve until after tea, but the questions continued for the rest of the day. I went home at six confused and feeling wrung out like an old cloth.

The next three days were the same. He would ask me questions relentlessly until we broke for lunch or tea. Towards the end my voice was warbling and cracking like a schoolboy again from overuse. My head throbbed and my body ached.

Come Friday, everything changed. Justice Swan met me at the door his hair tidy and arranged, his clothes clean and his face freshly shaven. He had a gleam in his eye I hadn't expected to see. I sat in my chair and waited for the questioning to begin again. Instead I was graced with a lecture. A long rambling lecture that lasted over a week. I was granted the partial history of Justice Charles J. Swan. There was much left out as he never mentioned his wife or daughter as if they didn't exist. He mentioned little about the house and nothing of the past three years. Nothing to solve the questions I had or the riddle of the locked gate.

I did find out the reason why there was no electricity yet on Blackberry Lane. Justice Swan held an easement to the lane itself. He did not trust electricity and didn't want any unsightly poles erected along the lane. He felt the same about the telephone lines and was able, and funded, to have them hidden from view, although his own home did not have the telephone. In the past he had allowed municipal sewers and water to dig up his lane to reach the other houses but flat out refused the Central Maine Power people when they asked. His neighbours were angry but it was his right. A few of them had been able to get a line through the back of the properties the next lane over but it was an arduous process. Swan had promised in his will that he would allow for, and fund, the addition of power poles after his death. Most of his neighbours were satisfied with that. It struck me as such an odd thing to do, especially having blocked any and all access to the lane itself by chaining the gate, but a man of his advanced years was allowed his eccentricities.

Every day at the same time lunch was ready for us at the table. Every day the tea cart was at the office door at four o'clock. Every day I hoped and every day I was disappointed for I never saw or even heard the girl.

 **AN: Thank you for reading. Thank you to beachcomberlc for catching and correcting all my errors and for being a friend. Thank you my supporters. I hope they know how much they are appreciated.**


	8. Chapter 8

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 8

When asked, I lied to my aunt and uncle.

Not out-and-out falsehoods, it was more like embellishments as to what I was up to each day. I didn't want them to think badly of either Justice Swan or me. I told them I was learning, studying and enjoying my time with Justice Swan. That much was true. I just wasn't learning about the law or how to be a lawyer. Late at night after they had retired to bed, quietly and by lamplight, I studied some of the law books I had at my disposal. I'm not sure if I really learned anything worthwhile for I had no one to explain, confirm or deny my suppositions. I daren't ask Justice Swan if or when he was actually going to teach me anything or give me any real work. I respected him but I was still very in awe and, honestly, in fear of him. I felt I had to perpetuate the myth I had started with my family or risk being removed from my position. I was wedged between a rock and a hard place.

On one hand I had enjoyed, to some extent, learning about Justice Swan and his personal views but I knew it had little to do with the law. If this continued I would fail at the bar and never become a lawyer. I began to question myself and my education. Did I really want to join my uncle and late father in their profession? Would I be satisfied not becoming a lawyer and perhaps choosing to teach or engage in business? I wondered why a man of his esteem would choose to start a legal clerkship in this manner. Was there some underlying reason why he wanted me to know about him and his views before learning about the law? Was he perhaps grooming me for something other than what I was there to do? Did he have plans for me outside of my clerkship that required intimate knowledge of him?

On the other hand, I was slowly creeping closer to finding out the mystery that surrounded Justice Swan and his much neglected house. What of his wife and daughter? What causes a man to hole up like he did and why did he return to work so quickly after his wife's death without a customary mourning period? While he did have a black mourning band on his suit jacket, he did not have one for his bare sleeve as I had seen on others. What did that speak to the relationship between Mrs. and Justice Swan?

After a weekend of near continuous independent study I resolved to speak with Justice Swan regarding my education and clerkship. I mentally fortified myself for an argument as I knocked on his door the following Monday. He greeted me warmly and I took several deep breaths as I walked behind him to the office. As soon as we entered, I noticed a difference. The room was tidier and rearranged to accommodate a second, albeit smaller desk by the window. The heavy brocade drapes were drawn open by at least a foot and a weak sunlight was struggling to enter the room. Justice Swan's tie had been cleaned and he looked exponentially better than I had ever seen him. There was a look in his eye I had never seen before. It was anticipatory, almost hopeful. On his desk was a thick sheaf of papers which he handed to me for my files. It outlined my duties and responsibilities to be allowed to approach the bar within four months time. The two weeks I had already spent with Justice Swan were accounted for and added to the time I needed to secure the clerkship requirements. He listed them under general education. There was a sizable list of books I was to read. I was pleased to find I had read through three of them already. There were four cases for me to read through and present to him for final judgement.

I was thrilled. Finally, I was on my way. I thanked him and took to my desk to begin. He sat behind his and answered every question I posed to him. The morning flew by, so deep was I in research and notes that I didn't notice it was time for lunch. I felt a surge of energy I hadn't felt since turning ill. I almost felt like the man I had once been, young and vibrant. It was a heady feeling. It felt good. Right, even.

When Justice Swan announced lunch, I was shocked to look at my hands. They were covered in ink. I had been writing so furiously that I was splattered. I spent a great deal of time in the washroom trying to clean them. Justice Swan was standing, waiting for me behind his usual chair. I took my place to his right and looked across the table. Previously the place directly in across from me was bare and lunch would be laid out all ready for the two of us by some yet to be seen person. Today the table was laid for three.

I turned my head to question Justice Swan. He nodded for me to take my seat and spoke to me in a rather quiet voice.

"My daughter, Isabella, will be joining us for lunch today and hopefully every day from now on. It took a great deal of convincing to get her to agree. I'd ask you to tread very carefully with her for she is rather delicate and fragile." Before I could ask any of the million questions that were running through my mind I heard a distinct noise.

I held my breath as the door from the kitchen started to open.

 **AN: In case you haven't noticed, this will be a slow knot to unravel. I do appreciate your patience for this story. You have been most kind with me.**

 **Beachcomberlc did her very best to turn this into something readable. Many thanks to her, IpsitaC77, Lunabev and my JulieToo. A bit thank you to Tarbecca for including this story in her fic-dive of the week at A Different Forest.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	9. Chapter 9

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 9

The food on the plates she was carrying smelled wonderful. I concentrated on that instead of her, just to keep my anxiety at bay. I made to stand at her arrival but her father placed his hand on my arm to stop me. Very carefully and without touching me, she slid my plate into place and then her father's before leaving the room. When she entered again, she put her plate down before taking her place. Once she was seated, I chanced a long look at her. Although she kept her eyes downcast there was stubborn set to her jaw. Again, her collar was very high. Her dress would have been fashionable 10 years ago, pre-war. I remember the style of dress, high collared, long sleeved, and a gauzy white material that looked like it could be enticingly see-through, although much to the dismay of the male population, it wasn't. Nowadays woman show more skin around the neck, nothing too risque but perhaps a glimpse or brief view of their collarbones. When I was stationed in England I went to see a troupe of dancers, all French girls, well, let's just say I long for the day that kind of fashion comes to America.

As her father refused to let me stand, I addressed her directly.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Swan." I inclined my head and held out my hand to shake.

By the look she gave me and my hand, one would think I was handing her a piece of wormy shit I had just pulled from her best friend's lifeless corpse. A corpse she had witness me defiling in heinous ways. It was a look of pure hatred and spite. Suffice to say, Miss Swan did not like me and I knew not why.

"Mr. Masen." She spoke in a clear but curiously deep voice for a female. The sound of her voice went instantly and surprisingly, straight to my groin. I stifled my shock as best I could. I wanted to hear more of her speaking. It was a wonderful sound.

Alas, there was no more conversation between us. Her father did all of the speaking, we just nodded along with him. I tried to catch her eye again but to no avail. Her hair was a shade or two darker than her father's and she wore it down. She looked old enough to wear it up. Her voice and comportment made me think she was well over sixteen but she was dressed much younger than her years. Her eyes, for what little I saw of them, showed experience I had seen on some returning injured soldiers. Something terrible had happened to this girl. Something that made her hate me or at least strangers or males. I shuddered to think what that could have been, but it must have been the impetus that made Justice Swan lock his family away from the town.

I ate as quickly as I could without making a pig of myself. Lunch was tense and uncomfortable and I didn't wish to stay at the table any longer than I had to. I think Swan and his daughter felt the same.

After lunch was over and Miss Swan had cleared the plates and disappeared into the kitchen, Justice Swan dismissed me for the day. I was shocked. I was afraid to question him. Afraid that this would be the end of my clerkship and career. Afraid that I had displeased him in some way and I would have to start over. I didn't know if the few weeks I had spent as his clerk would count toward my allotment. I didn't know what to do but comply and leave for the day. I drove around town for awhile before ending up at my aunt and uncle's house. I told them I was let go early but just not how early. We had a pleasant evening with a good supper; outdoors supper at that, due to the summer heat.

I decided not to tell them of the possibility that I had lost my position because I wasn't certain and I had no valid reason why I might have. It wasn't necessary to worry them before the fact. If Swan dismissed me permanently then I would tell them. Father always taught me not to borrow trouble.

I did have a great deal of trouble sleeping that night. I ended up sitting at the window again, staring at the stone wall and gate. My mind was running marathons about the house and its people. What was to become of me and what caused the Swan girl to hate me so? Those thoughts I could not silence.

And then I heard it again. That metallic rubbing noise and saw the flash of white. This time the flash came three times and I saw a faint glow over the top of the fence. I threw on my dressing gown and ran out of the house as quickly as I could. I ran to the gate but saw nothing. No mark or evidence. Nothing out of the ordinary or unusual about the stone wall or the gate. The thick chain was still padlocked in place. Even the grass seemed undisturbed.

As I turned to go back to my house and warm bed I thought I saw something else out of the corner of my eye. I leaned into the fence and pressed my face to the bars. I saw the faint glow and it seemed to be coming from a patch of ground behind a line of bushes. It didn't make any sense and I feared my mind was playing tricks on me.

 **AN: Thank you for reading. Thank you beachcomberlc for correcting. Thank you good friends for just being in my life.**


	10. Chapter 10

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 10

The very next day I went to the Swan house with determination. I wasn't going to let Justice Swan get rid of me without proper notice or cause. I would stand my ground and argue my case. I had done nothing to earn Miss Swan's hatred; I'd been a good and faithful listener and I would continue to be a good clerk. I would start to take my lunch at my aunt and uncle's and avoid Miss Swan altogether.

It never occurred to me that I was becoming obdurate for no reason. I was acting a fool and fighting shadows.

Justice Swan greeted me at the door like I was his long lost son. He shook my hand warmly and welcomed me back into his home. It was as if the altercation with his daughter hadn't happened or that I'd just inflated the meeting. I felt stupid for all my concern.

I set to work as I should. I finished one of his cases and started another. I started to worry that I might meet up with Miss Swan again at lunch, but there was no place set for her. I can't say I wasn't relieved.

After lunch I presented the finished case to him. He gave me some basic correspondence to answer and left me to my own devices for the rest of the day. The knock for tea surprised me. I was so engrossed in my work I lost all track of time. It was a good day.

The next few weeks were the same. Work, lunch, work, teatime, work, and then home. I was enjoying myself and feeling like a real clerk. Soon I would take the bar examination and set up my own practice.

I was beginning to think I had imagined the incident with Miss Swan. Perhaps I wasn't the reason for her anger, just the scapegoat for it. Maybe I would never have to see her again, more's the pity; I wanted to see her, a lot of her and often. I wanted her to come into my room at night and read me filthy stories until I fell asleep. I wanted her to wake me every morning by calling my name in her wonderful throaty voice. For the first time in my life my imagination was running away with my mind. And both seemed to wind up in the gutter a great deal of the time.

The face that greeted me on an innocent Friday a while later was an angry one. Justice Swan was in a temper and he stormed about the office as if his shoes were made of lead. He muttered to himself and glowered at me every chance he got. By lunchtime his colour was so high I thought he would have an attack or cause his own death. He ate two bites and told me to go home and not come back until he sent for me. He assured me that I was not the cause of his ire but I had my suspicions.

I raided my uncle's library and read the weekend away. I saw no movement at the Swan house nor did I seen any lights.

A note was sent for me the following Tuesday, full of praise for my work and pleading for my return Wednesday, eight sharp. I was so very confused. I had never known someone so mercurial as Justice Swan. It worried me that perhaps I had been hitched to a mad man and my career would suffer because of him. I wondered if I should continue with him or seek my fortunes elsewhere.

I stood for a long time staring out my bedroom window at the house next door, just thinking. Worrying and wondering, but mostly thinking. There had been so many twists and turns in my life over the last few months. It made me tired just to think about them.

Wednesday morning I dressed with care. I had a feeling this day would be a turning point. Something was going to happen today but I couldn't really decide on what that would be. Would I be leaving Justice Swan or was there something else on the horizon? My eggs felt like sawdust in my mouth and my tea had no flavour either. Esme commented on my behaviour, but although I was too distracted to really answer her, I was present enough to apologise. She patted me on the shoulder and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.

The drive to the Swan's felt interminable although it was less than five minutes. So did the walk to the door. The moment my hand met the wood, Justice Swan opened the door and ushered me in. He stood before me, looking every bit the imposing adjudicator he must have been in his heyday.

"My boy, I have a proposal for you that I want you to consider very seriously before answering. It is nothing dangerous, illegal, immoral or arduous but will be an act of faith and a great service to me personally." He paced back and forth behind his desk sneaking glances at me every other turn.

The skin on the back of my neck tingled. I both wanted to know and wanted to flee. But I did owe him the respect to listen to him before running for the hills.

"What is it you require of me?" I don't know why I spoke so formally but the occasion seemed to warrant it.

"In exchange for a small service, I'm willing to swear, under oath, that you have fulfilled the terms of your clerkship, one month from now, and I will help you study and pass the bar for this and the tri-state area. I know you have been working late at night; I can see you from my bedroom window. I know you are more than smart enough and a hard worker. So there would be no lie to any of my claims. What do you say, boy?"

I thought about it for a few moments before answering.

"What would I have to do?"

 **AN: Some how I don't feel guilty for leaving this question unanswered or dangling. Could be my mean, evil side coming out or something. Who knows? Beachcomberlc knows. IpsitaC77 knows. Everyone else, LunaBev and JulieToo included will have to wait two days.**

 **Hi DICATAKADD.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	11. Chapter 11

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 11

"I would like for you to marry my daughter, Isabella."

I sat there, dumbfounded and confused. He wanted me to do what? I didn't know whether I should laugh or cry at his proposal. However, saying yes was furthest from my mind. The girl, and she may still be young enough to consider a girl, hated me on sight.

"Why?" was all I could voice at the moment.

"I need to make sure she's taken care of before I leave this world. She's a delicate creature, fragile even, and needs a good man to look after her. She'd not make it on her own."

She hadn't seemed all that fragile to me when she was trying to kill me with a look, but I had to take her father's word for it. He knew her best, after all. As well, I had found in the past that looks could be quite deceiving when it came to the gentler sex.

"What does your daughter say about all this? Is she agreeable to marriage or even marriage to me?"

"She will do what I tell her to do. She's a good girl, smart and able to care for a husband. She cooks well and can do all manner of womanly tasks. She's been doing her best to look after me since her mother turned ill. There are some conditions that I require before you agree."

I decided to play along with his game. I was fairly certain Miss Swan would much rather eat strychnine than marry me but I didn't want to ruin Justice Swan's charade.

"What conditions are those?"

"Firstly, treat her well. Do not touch her unless you are absolutely certain she wishes you to. Don't ask me why, I won't and can't tell you but I need you to swear on this. Your marriage might be chaste for many years but you must swear not to punish her or divorce her for this. I know you are the kind of man who will respect his bride in this way. Tell me you won't." He stressed this so emphatically I had to nod my agreement. I didn't really think of what I was giving up until after I had agreed to it.

"Second, I'll deed you the house, please don't make her move from here. After what happened awhile ago, I offered to sell and move but she would have nothing to do with it. She even offered to buy it herself with money she had saved from an inheritance. I know the house is in disrepair; I haven't the energy, knowledge or inclination to do the upkeep. You can't hire anyone for she and I will not allow strangers onto our property. If you knew our history, you'd know why."

He went on about this as if I did know their history. I wanted to ask, desperately wanted to ask, but I stupidly held my tongue.

"Thirdly, if I have to leave again as I did last week, I need for you to promise you'll tell anyone who asks that I was taken to my bed with illness."

"But..?" I would need to know why before I felt comfortable lying for him. It wasn't in my nature to be untruthful.

"No questions boy. Not yet, anyway."

"Fourthly, you will allow her her odd behaviours. She has earned them. She had a great deal of trouble sleeping and often spends a lot of time in bed, late into the day."

He stared off into the distance for awhile. I didn't know if he was going to continue or if he was finished.

In a very quiet voice he resumed speaking.

"I need her to be safe, I need her away from any hostile gossip that would ruin her. I failed her once, I can't do it again. I need her to be cared for by someone I can trust. I know you have questions, I still have questions and there are things she won't tell me. I don't want to press her and have her break down. I know she is only just holding onto her sanity. Although she is not mad, I want you to know, she's damaged in ways I will never understand. There is no way she could go out and find a man of her own and she's too young to be left to fend for herself."

He stopped and looked at me.

"She is very pretty, isn't she? I saw how you looked at her last week. If you want her, marry her and do all that I ask. You'll be rewarded. Your clerkship, the bar and my home, practice and reputation. All these things are yours for the taking if you promise."

"What do I tell my family? They'll want to meet her, to know her and…"

"Love at first sight, Edward. You saw her and could not resist. I could marry you two this afternoon or as soon as you agree to my terms. You can go pack your bags and move in when possible as long as it is within this calendar month. You have the impetuous nature of youth behind you to cover your actions."

He countered almost every argument I could come up with. I had been struck by his daughter but I wouldn't go so far as love at first sight. Esme was a romantic and would easily swallow that idea. Carlisle was more centred but distracted with his own work. The weeks I had already spent here clerking and the month to come might just be enough hours to fulfill my clerkship. However, help with the bar exams and everything else Justice Swan was promising me, well, I didn't know if they were worth it. Worth promising my life to a woman/girl who loathes me.

There was a part of me that wanted to protect her. I could see that there was something, not wrong, but amiss with her. Perhaps she needed me more than I needed the dowry a wife might come with.

 **AN: Many thanks to Beachcomberlc for her stupendous efforts toward keeping me sane and readable. My IpsitaC77 is a bright jewel in my day. LunaBev makes me smile. JulieToo keeps me level.**

 **Hi to Rebadams7**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	12. Chapter 12

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 12

I sat in my usual chair and thought of his offer. Offer wasn't quite the right word, neither was demand, but proposal was ludicrous. He wasn't proposing anything but asking me to do the proposing. To his daughter, a woman who didn't like me. Why was he going to force me on her if she didn't want me? Or, worse yet on someone else?

"I cannot, in good conscience, agree to this without hearing from Miss Swan. I apologize, Justice Swan but I need to hear from her that she is agreeable to this marriage."

"While I'm not happy with your request, Edward, I understand it. Allow me to speak with her first, I mean again, and you can have some time with her. Give me a hour or so. Go, walk around the house and the property. Have a look at what you will be gaining before you meet with the final prize."

I stumbled to my feet and did as he asked. It was a glorious warm summer day. I was halfway to the main gate before I realized I had forgotten my suit coat and hat. No matter. I took the time to roll my shirt sleeves and let the gentle breeze play along my bare flesh.

I inspected the gate and wall from this new angle. I saw nothing out of the ordinary. I even tried to reach through to the other side where I had seen the white flash. The gate made the same metallic rubbing sound but I could feel nothing but the rock that made up the wall. I walked over to the line of bushes I had seen the other night. The air was heavy with the scent of juniper and the bushes were polka-dotted with fruit. The bushes were kind of flattened on one side and I wondered if they had once bordered the side of the old house. There were no traces of the old building, that I could see. I walked around the jagged grouping of juniper bushes, but for the life of me, I could not see where that odd light could have come from.

I gave up trying to solve that mystery and took to walking along the stone wall again. I found yet another gate, this one wide enough to allow a small truck through. So that was one questioned answered. They were able to receive deliveries through this side entrance. There was a small shed just beside the gate and I peeked in to see several boxes inside. I didn't want to be caught spying so I quickly continued on my journey around the property.

This may well have been the last time I was able to set foot here. Miss Swan may just ask her father to get rid of me all together. Or I may be allowed to finish my clerkship and never get the chance to wander the grounds again. But, then again, this may all be mine one day. This land, this house and the frightening girl inside. It was all too much to think of all at once. My legs carried me around, my eyes took in the sights, and my ears the sounds but my brain wasn't present. I began to wonder if my brain had even taken the trip east with my body or if I had forgotten it in Chicago.

Here I was, thinking about marrying a strange girl as a favour for her decidedly odd father. In exchange, I would be given the rest of my legal education without my really having to work for it. All I had to do is promise to lie to my family, myself and anyone else who came along and not have marital relations with my bride. I can't believe I'm even weighing these options as something to even consider. It was asinine. It was bordering on criminal. It was so intriguing I couldn't not do it. Justice Swan was right about the impetuous nature of youth. I was ass deep in a real mystery, a Sherlock Holmes-worthy mystery and I secretly loved every minute.

I walked along the back of the house. I hadn't realized just how large it was. I wasn't expecting so large a house from what I had seen before. The view from my window did not show all the extensions and annexes on the far side of the building. I guess this was part of the reason I never saw any lights on at night time. Justice Swan had told me his bedroom overlooked mine, and I knew he had issue with electric light. I wondered in Miss Swan's bedroom was next to her father's or if it was in a different wing. It was possible the house did not have gas lighting on the second floor or in the sleeping quarters. Every question I answered in my head formed at least a thousand more.

I came across what must have been a grand kitchen garden once, but was now a scraggly plot of weeds. A few hearty plants were clinging to life and while the potato plants were thriving a summer squash vine was making an attempt at domination. There was an overabundance of potato plants, rosemary and a very large bay bush. They looked as if they had been cared for but by someone with little time or skill. My mother had a very well-tended kitchen garden and I was her main farm-boy when I was younger. I had often joked with her that if I couldn't hack it in law, I'd make for a good rancher. My tour of the grounds was cut short when I heard my name being called from the front of the house by Justice Swan.

 **AN: Beachcomberlc is the best. That is all.**

 **I woke this morning to an absolutely gorgeous banner made lovingly by IpsitaC77. I'll post it in a few facebook groups so I hope you will be able to see just how perfect it is for the story.**

 **Hi midnitereader. Hi friends.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	13. Chapter 13

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 13

The house was deathly quiet when I made my way back inside. I found Justice Swan standing in front of the fireplace in his office. His back was to me and there was no sign of his daughter anywhere.

"What I am offering you, regarding your clerking for me and the hours, is not unheard of. In fact, it's a fairly common, but unmentioned practice. Law school, clerking, paging, all the hours of research and study, to be honest, Edward, they don't mean shit to an everyday lawyer. Day to day, it's just paper work and bull. All law school has taught you is how to read fast, really. All a judicial clerkship will teach you is how to follow orders and do someone else's work. Unless you plan on trial work or politics, what you learn from me over the course of a normal clerkship is useless. To be a good lawyer you need a fantastic memory for trivial facts; to remember past cases, laws and statutes. You need to believe you are right in your arguments no matter what they are. I think you could approach the bar five minutes from now and pass. I'm not giving you anything you don't already have except a signature on an official piece of paper."

He stopped speaking and turned to face me. There were high spots of colour on his cheeks and his eyes were blazing.

"Listen to me, Edward. I need you more than you need me, I know that. I need her to be cared for. I need her to be settled, and soon. I'm offering you everything I have."

"What of your daughter? What does she want?" I could feel the turning point, like the tip of a knife across my throat. Something monumental was happening, I could run and get cut, or I could stay.

"She does want a husband and she's agreeable. She understands my reasons and, although she is reluctant, she will marry you and try to be a good wife. Isabella wants to speak with you as well, but today is not a good day for her. I ask that you keep that in mind when you speak with her. As I said before, she is fragile. Please don't upset her." He looked at me with such intensity and pain in his eyes, I wanted to hand him my handkerchief, but I saw that his cheeks were dry.

"Justice Swan," I gathered my resolve to ask a few difficult but necessary questions. "In what way is she fragile? Is she able to even consent to marriage? Is she of age to marry? She dresses like a girl, not a woman of marriageable age. You have to tell me something, for I can't walk into this completely blind. It's not fair to either of us." I did it, I stood my ground and asked. Although I feared his answers and worried he wouldn't provide the ones I wanted.

"Next week, my daughter will turn twenty; she is more than old enough to marry. She is not feeble and is legally able to consent. When you come to live here she will cook your meals and see to your clothes as any wife. She will keep the home clean for you. She did ask for separate rooms but that is not unusual given her sleeping problems. She doesn't wish to rob you of your rest."

He sat heavily in his chair and held his head in his hands. He did not speak for a long time and I wondered if I should leave. Even without the answers I wanted.

"It's better for you not to know why, and I can't tell you. Not until I know she is settled. It may go against your every instinct, but please just do as I ask." His sigh was heavy before he raised his head to look at me again.

"Whatever you decide, whatever you do, do not ask her what happened. Ever. I'll tell you what I can, when I can, but not her. Never her. Do you understand, Edward? It is the most important thing you could ever promise me."

"No, sir, I don't understand but I promise not to upset her if I can help it. You will tell me, one day, right?"

"Yes. One day."

"Let me think on it and I'll give you my answer in the morning and after I have spoken to Isabella."

He nodded and dropped his head back down to be cradled again. I left as silently as I could. As I shut the front door, I could hear the faint rattle of the tea cart coming to the office door. I didn't see her and I think that was for the best, really. I needed some time to wrap my head around whatever the hell was going on. If I saw her it might cloud my judgement even further.

I didn't say anything to Esme over dinner. I could tell she knew I was distracted by something, but she didn't ask. Carlisle was absent for the meal but joined us in time for dessert and coffee. His mind was on a case. Esme mostly talked about how much she missed having a strong after-dinner drink. Prohibition was hard for her, as it was for many. Not that she was a drinker by any means, but she wasn't a temperance woman. She enjoyed a drink now and then, and something stronger than homemade wine.

Despite my mind running at full speed in several different directions, I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

A strange noise woke me hours later. The metallic rubbing noise, louder than before.

 **AN: My step-brother is a lawyer and I remember back to the days when he was at school. As you might be able to tell, I am not enamoured with either the profession nor the educational process of the law. So, please forgive my jaded opinions and remember that this is fiction. My apologies to any practising solicitors who may be reading.**

 **Beachcomberlc is wonderful at trying to get grammar rules to stick in my head. Many thanks to IpsitaC77 for the banner and the affection. Thanks to JulieToo and LunaBev.**

 **Hi RoryCullen.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	14. Chapter 14

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 14

When I got to the window, still partly asleep, I was confused. The noise continued when before it had stopped quickly. It wasn't loud but constant; a grinding back and forth.

After rubbing my eyes, I saw her standing behind the gate and pushing at it. The lock and chain were rubbing against the gate. Moonlight was glancing off her white dress as she stood there with her hands up shoulder height. I guess she saw my face in the open window because she stopped pulling at the gate and let her hands drop down to her sides. She stood there as long as I looked at her. She didn't even flinch as the gate swayed near her as it completed its momentum.

When she placed her hands on her hips I leapt into action. I found my robe and put it on as I ran as quietly as I could down the stairs. The kitchen door was the furthest from Esme and Carlisle's bedroom so I went outside there so not to wake them. I ran around the house to find her still standing at the gate, still with her hands on her hips. I knew it was a trick of the lighting but she seemed to almost glow in the night air. As I drew closer, I noticed her tapping her bare foot on the gravel driveway just behind the gate. I guess all of her was delicate with the exception of her feet. I wondered what she was doing out of bed and improperly clothed. I would hate for her to fall ill. I didn't know if it was because I didn't want to lose her or lose the mystery yet unanswered that surrounded her.

She stared back at me and even with her dislike of me clearly showing in her eyes, she was beautiful. Her hair was wild around her face. I could picture her running her hands through it, lifting the weight of it up and letting it slowly tumble back into place. I would love to watch as she did that. I could just imagine the feel of all that hair tickling my bare chest.

She wore a different dress than the one I had seen on her before. It was the same cut and style, although this one had pale green piping on the bodice. It buttoned up the front with tiny pearl buttons. There were at least a dozen of them running from the waistband of her skirt to the middle of her throat, maybe more. I didn't want to be caught staring as I counted them. For a woman of almost twenty, her bosom was small but there was a hint of womanly curves beneath the fabric. I did wonder how she could stand having every button done up, long sleeves and long dress on a warm night in August. The temperature had barely dropped since mid-day and the humidity was making me sweat in my pyjamas and robe. She didn't look flushed with heat or bothered by the sultry night air either. She looked cool and calm. I wasn't prepared for whatever might come next.

"Mr. Masen." She gave me a brief nod in acknowledgement.

"Miss Swan." I replied. I should have stopped speaking then, however my mouth ran away from my brain.

"What are you doing out of doors so late at night? You should be in bed. It is neither safe nor is it healthy for you." I have no idea why I thought it a good idea to berate her.

She looked me up and down before speaking. In the few second's pause I felt my stomach slither down inside me and press against my rectum. I had a fleeting feeling if I were to speak again, my body would expel my stomach and by the look in her eye she might enjoy dancing on it. Here I was lecturing a frail, possibly infirm young lady who I was considering for marriage. I was making a very poor impression on her, that much I could tell.

"You done?" She asked my dryly. I could only nod for fear for saying something even more stupid.

"If you have any respect for my father, any consideration, you'll do as he asks. I may not be anyone's ideal bride but my father needs this." She turned and started to walk away, back towards the house.

"What about you? What do you want?" I called quietly after her.

"That has no bearing on the situation at hand, does it, Mr. Masen?" She swung around to speak and then turn to face the house again. She didn't stop walking but just turned in a circle to address me. The scent of juniper was heavy in the air. There were hints of thyme and rosemary that seemed to trail behind her.

I watched her walk away until she was completely out of sight. Now I had even more questions. I slowly made my way back to my room. The sheets had cooled and my pillow lost the imprint of my head. I stared at the ceiling and watched the shadows play across it. I may have dozed a time of two but I didn't fall asleep. When the sun finally rose, I didn't want to get out of bed. I sure as hell did not want to go to the Swan house today. Unsolved mystery or not, I was in no mood to navigate the pair of them. She was about as delicate and fragile as an injured panther. Perhaps I could sent Peter with a note proclaiming my illness and inability to attend today. It was a nice thought.

 **AN: In the Muppet Movie actor Chris Cooper plays the big business bad guy after the Muppet's studio and theatre. Whenever he is plotting something and needs encouragement he turns to his hench-puppets and says "Maniacal laugh" over and over as they do as instructed. I'm really not doing that here. I swear.**

 **Beachcomberlc is beta extraordinaire, no question. IpsitaC77 is most lovely. JulieToo is a sweetheart. LunaBev is my favourite Croat.**

 **Hi Vagabonda.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	15. Chapter 15

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 15

I did begrudgingly get out of bed, eventually, and dressed for the day. My feet were leaden and I had absolutely no desire to work today. I had even less desire to see either Swan or to finish the conversations started the day before. I hadn't made up my mind as to whether I'd marry the girl or not.

I thought about what she said, if I had any consideration or respect for Justice Swan I would do as he asked. I did have both and admiration as well. I wanted to please him. I wanted to give something back to him for not only the education he had given me, but the mentorship. I felt indebted to him. But was that reason enough to take a wife? Was that reason enough to have her be mine for the rest of my life?

And, what of her? What of her wants and needs? She seemed hardened and cold to me, as if she hated me. Would she be like this for the rest of our life together or would she warm to me? Would I be allowed to fix whatever it was that haunted her and help her to be a soft, gentle woman once again? For I was certain she had been at one point. Fathers are rarely that mistaken regarding their daughters and a keen and watchful father sees all. He said that something happened to turn his daughter into the person she is now. I desperately want to know what is was, but he told me not to ask. Maybe if I married her I would find out.

Part of me wanted to soothe her rough edges and prickles to find the girl she used to be underneath. Couple a soft nature with her beauty and that voice, lord that wonderful voice, she could be a girl I would spend my life caring for. As well, I could be the only man for her, as she almost never left the property she therefore had so few options. It made be fortuitous for her to marry a man such as myself. A man who won't ask difficult questions or pry too deeply into the past until it was the right time.

I have to admit, I was ten minutes late for work that day. I felt no guilt for it as I knew it was a pivotal day. Justice Swan grinned from ear to ear when he saw me. He all but skipped on his way to his office door. He opened it and showed me in. Isabella was standing by the window waiting for me. She stood with her head down and her hands clasped in front of her. Her hair had been tamed and the forelocks pulled back in a large white bow that could be seen easily from the front. She had changed her dress into one with pink ribbons woven into the skirt. A thick, pink sash cinched her waist, making it look small enough for my hands to span its circumference. Her bosom seemed a bit more ample today, but that could have been a trick of the light. She wore brown ankle boots on her feet. She looked nothing like the toughened, wild girl I saw in the moonlight last night.

No, Isabella looked every bit the sweet demure girl chaps like me were supposed to court. I could just picture taking her to meet my Aunt and Uncle over tea. Sitting on the porch chatting with her over a tall glass of cordial or accompanying her to a church social. I could almost feel her hand in the crook of my arm while imagining taking a stroll through a leafy park. My imagination stopped short of stealing a kiss for from what I had seen from her, she'd slap me if I tried. I don't think I'd like that, although the sting of it would be delicious.

Slowly she raised her head and looked me in the eye. My decision was made. Whatever secrets she may have, whatever it was that haunted her and her father, I would do as they asked just to be a small part of repairing them. Such was the torment I saw in her eyes. I longed to bring some joy to her in any way I could. If giving her a husband and her father peace of mind was the answer, so be it.

I turned to speak to Justice Swan.

"Justice Swan, I would be honoured if you would allow me the great privilege of your daughter's hand in marriage." I gave him a very slight bow and waited his reply.

"Well, what say you, Isabella?" He walked slowly over to his daughter and held his hand out to her.

"Nothing would please me more, father." She glanced at him and then at me. I could have sworn I saw a shimmer of tears in her eye as she looked at me. He led her by the hand to where I stood, and placed her hand in mine. She took a step closer and laid her head on my chest; not quite in an embrace for she did not put her arms around me. She pressed her cheek against my heart and I could feel the stuttering of her breath as she tried to control it.

I believed she was overtaken with emotion, however, I had yet to know which emotion it was. I feared it was resignation. Her father beamed and clapped me on the shoulder.

"Call me Charles, Edward. We are almost family now, after all." As he chortled, she sighed and I wondered what in the hell I had gotten myself into.

 **AN: Have you ever wanted to just shake someone and call them an idiot? No? Okay, me neither. Although I am fairly sure several of you would like to shake me to get at the answers. As well, I'm sure call me names.**

 **Beachcomberlc has infinite patience for my errors. IpsitaC77 turns them into pretty picture. JulieToo and LunaBev, I hope they know.**

 **Have you read Archy12's After The Wedding?**

 **Hi CindyWindy1. HiNarcys-crazydaisy. Hi readingKs.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	16. Chapter 16

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 16

Charles started making plans. He walked around the room talking to no one in particular. Isabella wriggled out of my hold and stood at my side watching her father. I couldn't tell what was going on in her mind for her face told nothing. I felt oddly bereft when she extricated herself but it was a fleeting feeling. Charles started rummaging through his desk for paper and pen. There were a few things he wanted noted before we were to wed. I'm not sure at what point Isabella slipped out but when I looked for her a while later, she was gone. I looked over to Charles but he wasn't paying any attention. I hoped she was amenable to all the agreements her father and I were making. He did not mention anything about marital congress that morning in all his furious note taking, a neglect for which I was eternally grateful.

In the end it was decided that the wedding would take place later that day, after tea. I was to go back home and break the news to my aunt. Carlisle would have to be told after the fact. He had a late session at court and wasn't expected home for several hours. Charlotte and Aunt Esme could be our witnesses with the possibility of Peter's involvement as well. Charles said he had already spoken to Isabella about this and she agreed. He was certain she would be busy all day making herself up and preparing refreshments for after the ceremony.

I was also supposed to pack at least a suitcase. Charles mentioned my room and how he hoped it would please me. He said Isabella had cleaned and aired it just this morning in hopes I would take it. I hadn't quite thought past the wedding to the fact that I would now be living with my bride and her father in the house that had so captured my imagination for all these months. The amount of time I spent staring at the house during my recovery, well, I could tell you the number of window panes and rows of shingles on the side that faced my window. Here I was about to take it as my own. I still did not know the circumstances behind Charles' decision to withdraw from society and what happened to make his daughter the way she now was. Even though he asked me not to question her, I needed to know. I felt I had to know. There were too many questions unanswered. I was doing this for him, he could damn well do something for me in return.

"Before the wedding, Justice Swan...Charles, I want some answers. I think I deserve to know. I need to be informed of what happened. I can't take care of her if I don't know why or what occurred in this house." I tried to keep my voice strong and steady, but the request for information was too important, too necessary; I couldn't keep my eagerness out of it.

His entire being sagged. You could see the happiness drain out of him, swirling downwards like a kite that has lost its wind. When he finally settled at the bottom, he let out a great sniff and a sigh.

"It was my fault. I left them alone. I shouldn't have. I went with a friend fishing for a few days. I came home early due to inclement weather and lack of fish. Mrs. Swan had been distant of late and I thought perhaps we could soon talk or take a trip ourselves. However, while I was on my way back to my family, three men came to the house. I still don't understand why or what they wanted other than malice. They tied Mrs. Swan to a chair and did... things to Isabella. She was such a sweet girl, my girl, and those animals took that away from her. My wife never recovered from the ordeal. Isabella was altered forever." He scrubbed one hand across his face and thumped it on the desk.

"My arrival startled them and they ran off." He stopped abruptly and raised his head to look at me. It was as if he were challenging me to ask a certain question. I asked the first and most pressing one that was on my mind.

"Did they...was she…?" I couldn't speak the vile word. He understood my question anyway. He shook his head almost violently in the negative.

"She told me they didn't touch her like that and I cling to that hope, knowing she never lied to me before. However, I don't know everything they did do to her or why. After the ordeal, she was confined to bed for a week or so to recover from her injuries. My wife refused to tell me anything. And Isabella was so scared and skittish, she shrank away whenever my wife tried to touch her." He fell back into his memories for a while.

"Please, Edward, don't let this change your mind. You are my only hope to reach her. I need you to honour your promise and marry her." He looked so troubled, so earnest I couldn't help but nod.

"No, no, I won't change my mind. But I want the whole story, and soon."

"All right, you have my word. However, please don't let her know that I've told you anything. She, even with her new frailty, is quite independent. I'll tell you what I know and one day, if you earn her trust, I'm sure she'll tell you her side of the story." He stood and tried to end the conversation. I allowed it but I would have my answers eventually. We both knew that.

 **AN: Some answers and twice as many questions.**

 **Beachcomberlc puts up with a lot from me and I love her for it. Same goes for Lunabev, JulieToo and IpsitaC77.**

 **Thank you for reading, you lovely wonderful readers.**


	17. Chapter 17

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 17

Charlotte all but swooned when I told her and Aunt Esme I was marrying Isabella Swan later that day. She was a bit of a dizzy thing who spent every Saturday at the picture show without fail. _The Sheik_ was her favourite film of all time and if she could find a way to turn Peter into Rudolph Valentino, she would. She was forever toting around magazines chocked full of pictures and gooey stories about her favourite actors. She told me she had written a letter to Valentino and Ramon Novarro and had received pictures from them. Autographed and everything, was her breathy sigh when she spoke of the snaps. She tittered when she talked about her love for the Latin lovers of the silver screen. What she saw in plain porridge Peter I'll never know. She could have found a nice Portuguese lad in one of the coastal towns.

She had all manner of romantic reading material and had offered me a few of her books while I was recovering. I declined, politely, of course. I was touched by her kindness but even on my death bed I wouldn't be caught reading romance novels if they were the last books on earth.

Aunt Esme was not quite as taken with the idea, but she took the news in stride. She would never say anything contrary to me in front of Charlotte so I made sure she was there when I told her. Peter just nodded as if it was the most natural thing in the world for me to marry the girl next door...who hadn't been out in public for years, except for her mother's funeral service last month...who I've only just met...who, chances are, hates me and is only marrying me to appease her father, a man who is decidedly odd.

I may not have fooled Aunt Esme entirely, but I did just enough to get her to agree to witness my marriage. I also may have lathered the truth quite thickly in regards to my feelings toward Miss Swan. I was intrigued by her, I was attracted to her, and I was in wonder of her. However, I didn't love her, not in the way a young swain does two hours before his wedding. Though, I desperately wanted to protect her. I wanted to see some measure of happiness on her face. I needed to know that her mind was settled from whatever it was that haunted her. What I really, really wanted was to know was exactly what went on in that house the night she was attacked and why. There was an overwhelming need to know why. I would promise myself to this woman and her daft father for the merest chance to find out why.

I don't know if I had sold my soul to the devil or if we were just under negotiations for it. Time would tell, I guess.

I was an idiot. I'll freely admit that. However, I was an idiot with a purpose. In that there is much danger; an idiot with a purpose. Will I still be an idiot when the truth is at hand? When I know everything, will I regret marrying her?

Probably. Let's hope I'm in for a merry ride and not a tortuous one. Mind, marrying Isabella might be the greatest adventure I could ever know.

Charlotte rushed through her chores. Esme helped where she wanted, although I did hear much muttering from her as she worked. I packed a bag, enough clothing and personal items to last for a few days or until the weekend. I would return then to pack the remains of my belongings.

Just before I left my room to take my case downstairs, Aunt Esme stopped me.

"Are you certain this is what you want, Edward? It's not in your nature to be to impetuous. Tell me of your feelings for the girl. Tell me about her and that will help ease my concerns."

I thought for a moment, not sure of what to say and how to convey my feelings. I also had no idea how to address Miss Swan to my aunt in conversation. I hadn't been given permission to call her by her first name and to call her Miss Swan when I was preparing to marry her was too formal and awkward.

"Aunt Esme, I think it's because it's not in my nature that the whole prospect appeals to me. I'm doing something rash and romantic and I am exhilarated. What I know of her makes me want to know much more. She's beautiful as any fool can see. She is sweet, she cares greatly for her father, she cooks like a dream and she is able to take care of that large house on her own. She has the skills to be my wife, and is smart and caring. Others have wed knowing even less about their new bride. The fun will be in the learning. I'm excited and I will do this with or without your permission. I'm over twenty-one and able to make rational decisions on my own. Please, please don't ruin this for me or for her."

She sighed and took me in a great hug. Whether or not she understood, I don't know, but she joined me downstairs a few minutes later in a lovely floral frock with a small trimmed hat on her head and carrying a pair of white gloves.

"Well, my boy, let's get you married then." I could only laugh.

I held my arm out for her and then for Charlotte. It was a tight squeeze to get the three of us comfortably in Alice's cabin but we managed. I resolved to ask Charles about the lock on the gate and why that access was blocked. It made no sense, to me, to have to drive eighteen minutes out of the way when one could walk the two or three hundred feet through the gate.

Charles answered the door, beaming with pride and anticipation. I can't count the number of times he clapped me on the back. Isabella stood off to the side as her father greeted Aunt Esme and Charlotte.

 **AN: Thank you so much for reading. Special thank you to beachcomberlc, IpsitaC77, JulieToo, and LunaBev.**


	18. Chapter 18

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 18

The ceremony was brief and civil, in both senses of the word. I half expected Isabella to refuse at some point, but she did not. She looked me in the eye and made her promises. To love, to honour, to cherish through goodness and bad. She accepted the ring I slid on her finger. Aunt Esme had presented it to me just before the wedding. It was my mother's and I'd had no idea Esme had kept it for me..

It was when Charles announced the kiss that my fears really came to a head. I had forgotten this part of the ceremony. I closed my eyes for a second to calm myself. If she was so fragile that I wasn't to touch her as a husband is want to do, how am I supposed to kiss her? She's been as welcoming and friendly as a hedgehog in full prickle to me in the last few days. She's as likely to bite me as to kiss me. But she had kept up the façade of demure bride thus far. I screwed up my courage and leaned to her. The kiss was chaste and sweet. She raised one hand and placed it gently on my cheek, stroking my skin softly. I felt encouraged and exalted. Perhaps I had just married the sweet girl and not the wild one I had met before. I wrapped my arm, the one not holding her hand, around her waist and held her to me. It was a glorious feeling to have a warm, soft girl pressed up against me. I nearly forgot where were we and in whose company.

Charles led the cheering of the very small group as Isabella blushed at my side. Aunt Esme took her by both hands and welcomed her to our family. Charlotte cried. Peter just shuffled at the back of the room letting Charlotte have her emotions. I hadn't even notice Peter's arrival. After a pointed look at Charles by his daughter, he led us into the main sitting room for refreshments. Isabella disappeared long enough to make tea. I hadn't been in the sitting room before. There was a very large fireplace. Large enough for Esme to stand upright without harm. Charles explained this room had, at one ancient time, been the kitchen of the main house. Most of the reconstruction of the house had been done about sixty years before in the late Mrs. Swan's father's childhood. Aunt Esme jumped at this news and at Charles' willingness to discuss history. As she questioned him about the house and grounds I could see Isabella's hand holding her teacup. It was shaking but not quite to the point where the teacup would rattle. Very slowly, as not to startle her, I reached for her cup. It didn't matter because she jumped anyway but she stopped shaking at least. She didn't turn her head to look at me however I did see her glance at me through the corner of her eye. I would have enjoyed a timid smile or some such acknowledgement but I was not rewarded.

All too soon it came time for our company to depart. Charlotte gave me a watery good-bye and Peter, a firm handshake. He also gave me a scowl over Charlotte's tears. I could tell the pressure on him to propose had just grown ten-fold. I would be surprised if their wedding wouldn't be held sometime in the new year.

Aunt Esme gave me a fierce hug and asked me to bring my bride to lunch, perhaps on a Saturday. She reached for Isabella and held both her hands for a few moments just staring into her eyes. I do not know what questions she was asking but Esme seemed to find the answers somewhere in Isabella's gaze. I expected Isabella to flinch or shy away from Esme but she held fast. Esme nodded and placed a motherly kiss on Isabella's forehead before saying her good-byes.

Then I was left alone with them. Newly married to a woman I had barely spoken to. A woman I was not supposed to approach as a husband is want to do on his wedding night. So caught up in the whirlwind and mystery of the Swan house, I was at a complete loss as to what to do next. I had only been in four rooms of this large home. I didn't know where I was to sleep or to bathe.

A finger of fear drew itself down my back. It was like I had been holding a candle in the dark of a strange cave when a gust of wind extinguishes it. What do I do now? Do I move forward and try to help Isabella and her father by seeking answers to my burning questions? Do I move backwards and let time reveal them one by one? Or do I remain where I am and stay ignorant for the rest of my life?

Dinner time at the Swan house turned out to be more similar to an average lunch in other homes. It was a small, simple meal. Apparently Isabella prepared a hearty lunch and a quick dinner so she may retire very early in the evening. She went to bed at an hour when most children were still allowed to play and was frightfully early even for a young woman. So early, in fact, she did not have dinner with us. Charles showed me to my room. It was at least next to my bride's, but that was as close as I was allowed to get. It was across from his own. My room overlooked the back of the property away from the stonewall and gate. It was a clean and simple room.

I was surprised to find a small pitcher of water, a short glass and a note on my bedside table.

 **AN: I know some of you want a Bpov however, this story will all be from Edward's perspective.**

 **Thank you for reading, you guys kick ass, by the way. Beachcomberlc kicks my butt only because I need it, and she does it very kindly too. Thanks to her, IpsitaC77, Lunabev and JulieToo for the support.**

 **TwiFanFictionRecs has their Top Ten Fics for 2016 poll out. It is a huge list of stories, the top ten of every month for the whole year, minus any that have been pulled for publishing. If you have the time, got vote for your favourite. You can vote once a day, everyday for all of February.**


	19. Chapter 19

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 19

 _Father likes a glass of water at his bedside._

 _I thought perhaps you would as well._

 _Pleasant dreams, Isabella._

I read and re-read the note over, looking for hidden clues or meanings. I could find none but it did not escape my notice that this was only one in a handful of times my bride had conversed with me and the first since our marriage. After the vows, she had not directed one word to me. Upon further thought, I hadn't really spoken to her either. I felt a real shame. I was an ass. Married only a few hours and ignoring my bride already. I should have sought her out and talked to her. I should have seen her to bed or wished her a good-night. Although, I had to admit she was a slippery little thing. She didn't seek me out either. Tomorrow I'd try to speak with her and let her know my wants and expectations. As I was now her husband, surely she would look to me for guidance.

I prepared for bed as usual, foregoing any exploration of my room. Without sufficient light, it was difficult to see any detail and I was too tired to look for another lantern or candle. Exploring could wait until morning. I sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, in the dark, thinking of the events of the day and the position I now found myself. I knew as soon as I rested my head on the pillow I would be plagued by fears and doubts regarding what I had done. I should have waited until I knew the full truth. I should have waited until I had spoken to Uncle Carlisle, for he was always a voice of sound reason. I should have spoken at length with Miss Swan and not listened to both her directive and her father's.

Sitting as I was, sleep started to elude me. I lost the dizzy tired feeling that always preceded rest. I was half tempted to re-dress and search the house for something to occupy my mind.

Instead, I settled under the light blanket and drank from the pitcher of water. I laced my fingers together under my head and let my thoughts race. Something about the position must have calmed me, for the next thing I knew it was morning and I had slept soundly.

I found it quite odd, while I washed and dressed for the day, just how slow, almost torpid I felt. It must have been the excitement and activity of the day before that had sapped me of my strength. There was an unusual taste in my mouth that had nothing to do with either my tooth powder or Listerine. Perhaps it was a remnant of the dish soap Isabella used to wash the drinking glasses.

I made my way downstairs to find Charles in the dining room. The tea service was in front of his place and he was happily eating a rather messy looking breakfast. He had a stack of letters as his side.

"Isabella's gone back to bed with a poor head. She left some breakfast things out if you care to fashion your own. It's not difficult, I made mine and do so a few times a week as needed. The kitchen is just through there, Edward. Or would you fancy a cup of tea first?"

I said yes to the tea as I contemplated making my own breakfast. I could make my own toast. I was proficient in that task but without electricity I wasn't sure how that would work. I chose to have a second cup before foraging in the kitchen. The room was very clean and tidy, I was a bit surprised to find. I'd have thought it would show the same kind of gentle neglect the other rooms did. But then, this would be a room that asked for more cleaning than any other in the house save for the lavatory.

Isabella had prepared some sausage and cut fruit before she had re-taken her bed. There was a bowl of eggs I avoided because I knew I would foul them up. There was bread but I ignored that too. It was a strange but satisfying breakfast. Charles wasn't overly chatty but neither was he surly.

After we were both finished and Charles had read his mail, he asked my plans for the day.

I told him in no uncertain terms but with a great deal of respect that I still wanted to be his clerk and earn my way to the bar exam. Although, I did have a pressing errand I needed to do before starting work that day. I had left Alice at the side gate, alone and in the open air. I asked if there were a place, perhaps sheltered, I could park my sweet car. I knew there were several different outbuildings both attached and separated from the main house. Surely one of those would have enough room to store a vehicle. An old tractor shed or carriage house would be perfect. Hell, even renovated stables would suit Alice.

When I made my inquiry to Charles, he thought about it for longer than I felt he should. I wondered if maybe he had the same odd notions regarding automobiles as he did electricity.

"There would be space enough in the old tool shed. Although, it might be best to let me go out there first to see if it is tidy enough. I may have left it in a mess the last time I was there." He trailed off and seemed to wander away mentally. I waited for what seemed a long time, at least until the last of my tea cooled.

 **AN: I could make up some witty or pithy reason why I posted two days in a row. I could lie and say it was for someone as a present. But no, I got my days mixed up and made a mistake. So now we are back to posting on odd days. Sorry for the blip.**

 **Beachcomberlc is simply marvelous. IpsitaC77 is sweet. JulieToo is kind and patient. Lunabev, well, she lives near the world's best chocolate and cheese, she doesn't need anything from me.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	20. Chapter 20

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 20

Charles left me alone in his office all morning. He all but threw a few books and a sheaf of papers at me before leaving me to my own devices. Just before lunchtime he came back looking very dishevelled and quite winded. He then showed me which building was the one he readied and allowed me go fetch Alice.

Lunch was on the table by the time I returned. Again, there was no place set for Isabella and I was disappointed. How was I to get to know my own bride if she refused to be in my presence? How was I supposed to fix her problems if she avoided me like this? I ate as quickly as I could and marched into the kitchen in search of her. I was not surprised to find her not there. I checked my watch and made note to come back in two or so hours to hopefully catch her making tea.

I wanted to kick myself later when the tea cart appeared at the office door and I missed my opportunity once again. I had gotten so involved with the case Charles was reviewing for a lower circuit. It was the third appeal for a former prison guard accused of being party to a breakout. One of the prisoners he was said to have helped had been found dead, hung and then thrown into a nearby river. The prisoner had sent a letter to the prosecution naming the guard as an accomplice. The arguments went back and forth as to whether the letter was admissible evidence. This was the final appeal and Charles was weighing it heavily. From my desk I could see him writing furiously, then scratching it all out, muttering to himself and flipping through various books. I did not want to interrupt him.

Dinner time came too quickly and I feared I would not have a chance to even see Isabella that day. As I washed up, I practised what I might say if I did get the chance. All of it ended up sounding like a bad novel so I gave up. If she wasn't at dinner I'd knock on her door as soon as I was done eating. I'd try to have an audience with her that way.

She was there, but I lost my nerve as soon as I saw her. Also, I didn't really want to talk to her in front of her father. I didn't want to embarrass her in that way. I let myself think that for a long time before I admitted to myself that I had no idea what to say even if I did speak to her.

It was time to acknowledge the fact that I was a fool. I'd flung myself into this situation, not only blindly, but stupidly as well.

Charles dominated the conversation talking about old cases and former associates. He was entertaining and made me laugh once in awhile. Even Isabella cracked a smile a few times. She was even more beautiful when she was smiling. As soon as the meal was over, I decided to flaunt tradition so I grabbed a few dirty dishes and followed Isabella into the kitchen rather than join Charles in the parlour for manly conversation. When I was a boy and had been naughty, my mother punished me by making me do the dishes. I hated it with a passion, however by the time I went off to war I was very, very good at the task.

I guess I scared her when I came through the door because she dropped the glass she was holding. She tried to wave me away when I offered to help, so I just stood there as she grabbed a broom and cleaned up the mess.

I tried to engage her in conversation, but she was quiet and answered in single words. I mentioned lunch with my aunt and uncle on Saturday next. She agreed. I thanked her for the lovely dinner, she nodded. I asked after her health, she said she was fine. I asked her about hobbies, she gave me a look and said none. Eventually, I gave up. When she said thank you when we finished the dishes, I was the one startled. I followed her as she went into the living room and watched as she kissed her father good night. He asked me to stay but I decided to follow her up to her room in the hopes of speaking with her again. I gave her ten minutes alone before I knocked on the door. If I could properly put the look on her face when she opened the door into words, it would be a cross between angry, frightened and annoyed. It wasn't a pretty look. What was a pretty look was the fact that she answered the door in her camisole and slip. Her arms were uncovered and I could see her upper chest and throat, although she had one hand covering the side of her neck as she answered the door.

The slip reached down well past her knees and was a thick plain white cotton. The camisole was more ornate, there were ruffles and ribbon bows around the neck and straps. Tiny white buttons kept the garment closed but I could just make out another type of cloth underneath it. I looked away as quickly as I could, as not to be caught leering, but it seemed Isabella was binding her breasts as was the flapper style that was popular these days. I couldn't help but notice and wonder.

I wanted to know what she looked like without the binding.

 **AN: So close, so close. But there is a lot more Bella to come in the next few chapters, I promise.**

 **Beachcomberlc, I thank you. Cheers to IpsitaC77, Lunabev and JulieToo**

 **Thank you for reading, even if you can't handle the suspense.**


	21. Chapter 21

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 21

Isabella cleared her throat and commanded my attention. I lowered the hand that had been raised to knock on her door. She leaned back a bit but kept one hand on the doorknob and one still covering the left side of her neck.

I stuttered and stammered my way through asking to spend some time getting to know each other. I remember not only the exact words but the tone of her reply to this day.

"Mr. Masen, I sincerely appreciate what you have done for my father in granting his absurd wishes and I will be forever thankful, however, I plan to grant you a divorce at the earliest possible moment upon my father's death. Knowing this, do you really want to waste your time getting to know me? I have nothing to offer you."

If I were a more suave and sophisticated man I would have come up with a retort to change her mind or at least her attitude for me. However, I was neither, yet. So, I admitted defeat and wished her a goodnight. Tail between my legs I returned to the living room to chat with Charles until it was time for bed. I did not undress that night; I just lay on the bed fully clothed, too many thoughts running through my mind to even try to sleep. I eyed the small water pitcher, but I didn't want water. I wanted something else I couldn't put my finger on. I watched through the open window as the moon slowly worked its way across the night sky.

I dozed but never fell into a deep sleep which is perhaps why I heard someone descending the stairs. I could hear Charles snoring, so I knew it had to be Isabella. After a few minutes I was concerned because I hadn't heard her return. I decided to get out of bed when I heard her pressing against the gate again. By the time I reached downstairs the noise had stopped and when I got outside she was nowhere to be found. I walked all around the house and back in the door I had exited. I grabbed a quick drink of water from the kitchen, stalling in case she were to show up there and waited until I grew too tired. Her bedroom door was ajar just enough for me to see that her bed was empty. I fell asleep quickly but woke frequently until it was time to get up.

Breakfast was almost an exact copy of the day before. Charles announced Isabella's return to bed with a poor head. I didn't ask what that meant and I didn't tell him she'd been up all hours either. She had left ham and hard-boiled eggs out and both were still warm so I hadn't missed her by much.

Charles poked me, laughing when I fell asleep at my desk later that afternoon. He jocularly asked if I was starting to behave like my bride by sleeping at odd hours. I went along with his teasing.

Dinner was the same. Although I was happy I didn't scare Isabella when I brought some of the dirty dishes into the kitchen, I was soon disappointed as she wouldn't engage me in conversation, even though I kept the topics noninvasive and light. She thanked me for my help and left the room quickly. I watched her fuss over her father for a few minutes before she said her goodnights. I sat and stared into the empty fireplace while Charles read a book.

I let this go on for another day before I took any action. I had married the girl and spent all of ten minutes alone with her. We had exchanged fewer words than one would with a grocery clerk. I was fed up.

I didn't even attempt to get ready for bed. I took a chair from the corner of my room and placed it facing the door. I sat and waited until I heard her get up in the night. As soon as I heard her footfall on the stair tread I opened my door. I very, very quietly followed her down and watched as she left.

Isabella was carrying a lantern that seemed to have a targeted beam. Only a slim shard of light preceded her to illuminate her steps. This must have been the faint glow I had seen from my window on the other side of the wall. I was surprised she hadn't caught me, but I stayed well away. I watched as she went to the far side of the gate where the metal was fused to the stone in a hinge. She held the lantern up in her left hand to the height of her head but away from her, I guess to keep her hair from catching fire. With her right, she slid her whole arm through the bars of the gate and reached for something on the other side. The starlight or moonlight glancing off her bare arm, or the sleeve of her nightdress, must have been the flash of white I had seen. When she pulled her hand back I could just make out a small package clutched in her hand. She laid the package at her feet and reached through the bars again. This time her hand came back empty.

After retrieving the package, she walked in the dark night over to the rear of the house to the line of juniper bushes. By the time I slunk my way over there, she was gone.

 **AN: This story is told in less than 1000 words per chapter. Not every chapter can be balls-to-the-wall excitement and non-stop sex. There is an ebb and flow. Right now there is not as much action but it is all leading up to the climax of the story. Please don't try to bully me into making it go faster. If the story is boring you, stop reading it or wait a few days to get a larger chunk.**

 **Thank you for reading. Thank you to beachcomberlc for editing and handholding. Thank you to IpsitaC77, JulieToo and Lunabev for their support.**


	22. Chapter 22

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 22

I swore quietly to myself when I found Isabella had managed to escape me once again. As I turned to go back into the house, a strange light grew out of the juniper bushes. Now that I was standing closer to them I could see it much better. The light seemed to be coming from a very well hidden door concealed under two of the juniper bushes. I could make out three sides of a small rectangle maybe two or two and a half feet long and three feet wide. Just enough room for a person to squeeze through, although someone with very broad shoulders might struggle. I have no idea why I hadn't seen it the other day when I went on my walk around the property. I'd have to look again in the daylight. Perhaps it was also painted to camouflage the entrance.

I debated. Do I get closer and try to find a handle or a latch and try to get in? Do I wait outside in the night air for Isabella to come out from her hiding place? Or, worse idea yet, do I go back to bed and pretend not to have found this entrance at all.

The decision rested on whether I wanted the chance to have Isabella yell at me, ignore me or hate me. None of the options were palatable. Therefore, I decided to go with the least horrible idea. I sat on the grass and waited. I knew she would have to come up at some point for she always had breakfast ready for her father and I.

I began to wonder just how much sleep she actually got over the course of a day if she was out all hours of the night underground. I also wondered just what in the hell she was doing down there and why her father had no idea. There was noise that I could hear coming from the door. There was nothing I could smell other than the juniper bushes beside me. I wonder how it came to be that there was a door leading into the ground in the middle of nowhere. I then realised that it, the underground room or wherever Isabella was, might have been part of the old house and rebuilt or refashioned after the house was demolished. It had to be, because it was too odd in placement to be a root or wine cellar. I would imagine either of those would be dug closer to the kitchen. Looking again at the house, I realised I was sitting outside the main parlour, the one with the enormously large fire so perhaps this was once a cellar for the kitchen. However, the new construction made this den obsolete. My conundrums were getting curiouser and curiouser, to paraphrase Lewis.

What could a sweet, gentle girl from a good family, albeit ruined by outside circumstance, be doing in an underground room in the dead of night? My imagination couldn't come up with anything. If she were reading books her father did not approve of, like the ones Charlotte read, well then surely she could do that while he is working or after she'd gone to bed. In all the time I've been in the house, Charles hadn't ever left the ground floor during the day time that I had noticed. I hadn't even heard him go into the kitchen.

I sat there for the longest time, thinking, ruminating before the urge to urinate came upon me. As a man outdoors this wouldn't be an issue, even less so due to the hour, however my new bride could appear at any moment. For her to find me out here, spying on her with my dingle in my hand would be most unfortunate. I walked to the other side of the house to take care of business, hoping against hope I don't miss Isabella leaving her lair or, more so, that I wasn't caught in the act.

All my worry was in vain, for when I got back to the juniper hideout, the light was still there. I settled into waiting again. The night was just starting to shed it's deep rich dark for the velveteen feel of early dawn. When faint streaks of purple began to form I knew I wouldn't have to wait much longer. I'd been out here for approximately three hours and I was exhausted.

I trained my eyes on the hatch door. The light got very dim, much dimmer than it should in the waning dark. I began to wonder if she was going to come up at all. Then the light got brighter and brighter. I could hear her footsteps and a series of metal bolts being disengaged. The door opened a bit, about halfway, enough for the lantern to be lifted out and placed on the grass beside the hatch.

I tried to be silent, to not make any sound that may frighten her. I didn't know what kind of staircase or ladder she had to climb to get to the top or if it was a slope. However, as much as I wanted to jump on her and demand answers to all my new questions, I didn't want her to injure herself.

Slowly, and head first but looking down, she came out of the ground. She didn't notice me as she emerged. I guess she was concentrating on not getting her feet caught in her skirt or getting her skirt dirty, because as soon as she was fully out she brushed her hand down her skirt before she turned to close the door. In the little extra light the new dawn gave me I could see the door was painted a very dark colour and it was well tucked under the overhang of one of the junipers.

With the door closed and the lantern retrieved, she turned and saw me.

"Oh fuck."

 **AN: First of all, you guys rock! Second, thank you to every one who told me I posted the wrong chapter last time, not only wrong chapter but wrong story as well. Kudos to owlsarebirdstoo for catching it milliseconds after I posted.**

 **I did a little research and found the best ever website that outlines what slang for genitalia was used during which year. Dingle was popular during the time when Edward would have been at school and the topic, and the appendage, would have come up, a lot.**

 **Many, many thanks to Beachcomberlc, who deserves a sunny vacation away from my lack of ability to use contractions or commas correctly. Much love to Lunabev, IpsitaC77 and JulieToo.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	23. Chapter 23

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 23

When I heard her say a word I had only ever heard come from the mouths of seasoned soldiers, I was confused. Shocked but confused. And frankly, slightly aroused. However, this was not the time nor the place and I highly doubted my bride would be agreeable to a romp in the morning dew.

Neither of us spoke for quite a few minutes. I wondered if I should wait longer and not ask any questions in the hope that she, in an effort to purge some guilt, would start speaking on her own. That wonder was soon quashed when my mouth ran away from my brain, again.

"Your father mentioned you had a troubled sleep, however I'd hasten a guess this is not what he pictured. What are you doing?" I tried to be gentle, to not interrogate her like a naughty child or scare her. Although I was seriously doubting her father's claims of fragility or frangibility.

"It's nothing that concerns you, Mr. Masen." She gave me a very small, patronizing, and smug smile then tried to leave. I leapt in front of her to stop her.

"I think, Mrs. Masen, your nocturnal activities are very much my concern."

"And why would that be? You don't know me. You can't possibly care for or about me." She tried to argue but I would have nothing of it.

"I am your husband. Of course I care about you. I married you, didn't I?"

She took a step back and let fly with a bitter laugh.

"My father bought and paid for you. Because you were easy to get. Because I am too ruined to get a husband on my own he had to purchase one for me." That stung and I felt immediately offended.

"He cares for you and wanted you to be looked after and protected. He didn't buy me."

"So, you get nothing out of this stupid arrangement?"

"Well...I…" I couldn't phrase my thoughts properly. The property, the clerkship, all those conditions were not the reason I agreed to this. It was the need of both of them that turned my hand. They needed me.

"You can't even act like a real husband, or was that one of the requirements? To keep me virginal and pure as well as incarcerated at home. You're not a husband, you're a jail guard; a warden."

"If you feel so strongly, why did you go along with it? Why did you ask me to do as your father wanted? You made an oath, a vow just as I did. What is your reasoning?"

I watched as she blinked for a moment. Without warning, she sat on the grass, dropped the lantern and held her hands over her eyes. She did not make a sound as she cried and I wondered how long it took her to learn how to do that. Did she cry soundlessly so not to let her father know she was hurting? Or was she pretending to garner my sympathy?

When she calmed slightly, she looked up at me. I knelt down to be closer to her. Her eyes were red and so very sad. Other than our wedding this was the closest I had been to her, physically. I could see faint lines of worry beginning to etch themselves on her face. She looked so much older than twenty.

"My father needs me to be the way I am, the way he moulded me. He needs me to be weak and frail. He wants to be the big, protective father who can stop all the bad that happens to little girls. He requires that I wear white to show purity and chastity. He needs me to wear my hair down so he can forget I'm an adult. It's his desire for me to stay at home where he can look after me, so I can be who I was two years ago; then he can forget what happened. I'm sure he's told you."

"No, no one has told me what happened, not really. And Charles said not to ask you." I stretched out a hand, intent on soothing her but decided not to touch without her permission. I was finally about to learn why Charles barricade his family in the house.

"I thought he told you everything and you decided to stay away from me out of disgust or repulsion. As I said before, I am well aware I'm no one's ideal bride. Now I know that's not the case for you, I'll try to make our time together pleasant. Now that I know you're not sickened by the thought of me, I'll try to be nicer."

I had no idea how to respond to what she had said. How could she possibly think I was repulsed by her? She was the one staying away from me, not the other way around. Before I could say anything or counter her statements, she rose to her feet.

"Father will be waking soon. I have to start breakfast and get to my chores. I'm sorry for causing you worry, Mr. Masen. It was never my intention for you to find me here."

She disappeared very quickly. I slumped over from my knees and felt the morning dew seep into my trousers. I thought about what she'd said. The way she'd reacted and every new thing about her I had learned.

The sun had changed the sky to shades of lavender and lilac as the stars winked out one by one. As I sat there, I realized she had given me nothing. Not a damn thing but incomplete answers and more questions. I had no idea what she was doing underground and where the hatch came from. I was no closer to figuring out the mystery of what happened all those months ago. She, and to a great part her father, had expertly woven this intricate web and I was the hapless fly caught in it.

 **AN: I love you guys. So many questions and theories, I can only hope this chapter gives you some answers. Bella's had quite a bit to say to Mr. Masen. I bet your just a little mad at Charlie now.**

 **Beachcomberlc is a wonder. JulieToo, IpsitaC77 and Lunabev are lovely. But you, dear reader, so patient, are my reason.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	24. Chapter 24

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 24

I didn't want to go into the house, although the scent of cooking was slowly awakening my stomach. I sat and pouted in the grass until I could stand the aroma no longer. I walked around the house and entered through the kitchen door. Isabella was working over the stove, stirring a fat pot of oatmeal with a frying pan spluttering happily beside her full of rashers of bacon. Tea was ready on the counter so I went there first. I added an extra half teaspoon of sugar to try to kick-start my brain. Once I had downed the first cup, I turned to my bride.

"I would rather call you by your first name than to call you Mrs. Masen, if you don't mind. And I'd prefer to be called Edward."

She gawked at me, but nodded.

"My friends at school called me Bella; I prefer that. Although my father insists on Isabella, so mind you use that in his presence." She graced me with a small smile.

"I shan't mention this morning or rather, last night, to your father. I don't think it's in anyone's best interest. However…" I let myself trail off. Isabella was looking equal parts anxious and triumphant at what I had just said. I didn't want her to think I would tarry long with being completely and utterly blind to her activities. Nor that of her father's quirks and foibles. I had to take a firm stand. I would be played the fool no longer. I was a man of both education and means and I did not want to be led through the nose by this pair for the rest of my life.

"However?" She asked, quite timidly. I tilted my head down and looked at her along the length of my nose. I really doubted she had ever been timid a day in her life and was continuing the charade.

"However, I want to know what you're doing going into a hole in the middle of the garden in the dead of night. Where did the hatch come from and what do you do when you are there? Why doesn't your father know?" I tried to keep my voice quiet but strong. I didn't want Charles to overhear me and I didn't want to come across as angry or challenging. But I was going to get my answers, fix the problems and live happily ever after with my wife.

She sighed, not a tired sigh or a sigh of resignation, but an aggrieved sigh. I could see anger take over in increments. Her shoulders set, her eyes hardened and her chin jutted out ever so slightly. I could tell she would rather talk about anything else than this current subject. Her objection didn't matter to me. I had earned the answer. And I would have it.

"Could we not do this now? My father will be demanding his breakfast any moment and he doesn't know. It would kill him to find out, really and truly kill him, Edward. You have no idea how far back this goes. The implications and ramifications alone. Please."

As she pleaded, I could only just ignore the way my name sounded as it came from her mouth in that devilishly glorious voice. I filed those thoughts away for a later time.

"Give me something and I'll leave you be for a while if and when he comes downstairs. But, I'd like the whole story soon." I asked gently but firmly.

"It was once a root cellar for the old house, but was boarded over when they tore it down. It was kept concealed and abandoned for years. I found it as a child and used it as a playhouse until I grew out of it. I go there to remember." She stopped lost in thought for a few seconds.

"The old house was torn down during the war, so I always imagined it as housing runaway slaves on their way north to freedom. It might be a romantic notion, but it pleases me. My mother caught me in there one day and forbade me to use it for the longest time; until about four years ago. By then she had made it hers and it became a secret we girls kept from Father. He was working a great deal then, as a circuit judge, sometimes being away for weeks for a trial. He also needed respite and found it in fishing with his bailiff, William, during weekends." Her face took on a sour look at the mention of Mrs. Swan.

We were now finally getting to the meat of the dish. Like the first markings of a great sketch, she was laying the groundwork for everything I had wanted to know since coming to my senses from my illness and seeing the house through my windows.

Then, signalling an end to our first and best conversation, Charles' footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs. Rather than become angry, I was pleased for I had come this far and Isabella was now trusting me with her story. I felt ten feet tall, although I was exhausted. I wondered how long this nocturnal activity could be healthy for a body. Isabella had been up to it for months, as far as I knew, and it had to have taken it's toll on her.

She tilted her head in the direction of the door as if to tell me to go through it. I gave a nod but held my place.

"I'm going to beg off this afternoon to get some sleep. I'd like more of your tale either over dishes or just after, if you are amenable."

The following sigh was one of resignation. I knew she was reluctant, but I would press for more.

"Thank you, Bella." I left the room then, not waiting for a response.

 **AN: I got over 60cm (2 feet) of snow since last I posted, the day before yesterday. With blowing snow it reached in some places over 130cm (4 to 5 feet). My city was shut down completely.**

 **The ever so sweet and kind Beachcomberlc tidied this up for me; waving her magic red pen like a wand. Cheers to my dears, IpsitaC77, JulieToo and Lunabev.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	25. Chapter 25

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 25

Charlie was initially reluctant to allow me the afternoon off, but after reading all his mail he suddenly agreed.

"In hindsight, my boy, I think a free afternoon is a good idea. I've just now been given notice of a few things that need my attention as soon as possible. I'll need the time to myself as much as you need more time to rest. I'm sure Isabella can make you a cup of tea or something to help you rest." I had no doubt Isabella could provide a soporific of some sort. The fact that Charles slept soundly through her nightly escapades led me to the idea she may be helping him sleep and I wondered about the proffered glass of water at my bedside the first night. I wasn't going to drink that again until I had asked her.

I changed into clean clothes, glad that Charles didn't notice or remark on my attire. I had a bracing cold-water wash and got ready for the day. I was very happy it was to be a short one. The next day too, for it would be Saturday and my half-day. Although, looming on the horizon was lunch with Aunt Esme and Uncle Carlisle.

Charles rushed through that day's tasks, all but throwing case reviews at me to go through. He hauled book after book off the shelves behind his desk to point out precedence and judgements to illustrate his point. I broke three nibs before turning to pencils for improved speed. I'm not sure, but I don't think he breathed nor blinked in the hours we spent that morning. All too soon, it was lunch and my ass was numb. My fingers were cramped and stained with ink. But, I did feel a kind of exhilaration I hadn't before. Must have been the thrill of hard work and mental exercise.

Lunch was delicious, of course. Isabella joined us, thankfully. She looked lovely, fresh and rested. I don't know how she did it. I don't think she'd slept, for lunch was intricate; salt cod cakes with relish she called chow chow and poached eggs. Isabella also served a summer pudding with whipped sweetened cream. She must have cooked all morning to make such a spread.

I tried to keep up with the conversation and contribute in some way but I was too tired. I managed to stay awake through lunch but as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was asleep.

I was a bit angry when I awoke for it was after dinner and I knew Isabella would have long gone to bed herself by this hour. I was hungry, too hungry to go back to sleep, but too tired to do something about it. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling for a long time before I made my decision. I was still dressed in that day's clothes and while they were wrinkled, they were good enough to raid the pantry before heading back to bed. Now that I had rested, I intended to join Isabella on her trek out later in the night.

My aim to be silent as I journeyed downstairs was thwarted when I tripped on the last stair and stumbled. The only thing injured was my pride, thankfully, but my foot made a very loud noise as I tried to catch myself. I made it to the kitchen without further incident. The moon was full enough to comfortably see without additional lighting. Everything was tidied and clean; perfectly symmetrical and arranged as if with a yardstick or ruler. I looked in the icebox to find a plate covered with a clean dishtowel. I peeked under the cloth to find two sandwiches, already cut and fanned out on a plate, with some sliced fruit in a small bowl. I decided it was for me and took it to the counter to eat. After some useless searching for a teaspoon, I decided just to eat with my fingers; other than that small hiccup it was a lovely light dinner.

As I ran some water to rinse my dishes, Bella walked through the back door.

"You can leave those," she said of the dirty dishes, "I can get them in the morning."

She smiled at me. A warm, friendly and welcoming smile. One that I had yet to see on her face and it was glorious.

"You seem to be in much better spirits. May I ask why the change? I was certain you hated me with a passion." I dared to ask as I finished washing the bowl.

"I've come to the conclusion that it takes too much energy being angry at you for things you haven't yet done. As well, I figure we are both in the same mess and it would be better to work with you than against you. Would you like some warm milk to help you sleep? I'm having some." She brought a large pitcher out of the icebox and placed it beside the stove before bending to get a small pot out of the cupboard.

I was a little taken aback by the changes in her. I didn't know what to say for fear I'd break the spell and she'd turn into the scowling angry girl she was before.

"Oh...ah... no thank you. To the milk. But, thank you for no longer hating me on sight. It's a pleasant change."

She giggled. A real, sweet girlish giggle that did funnier things to my groin than just her voice alone. And, in hindsight, it was then that I fell for her. I still didn't know her or understand her. I may never fully understand her but that didn't matter. For in that moment, when she allowed herself to be free and careless, she was so lovely, so wonderful, I defy any man not to have fallen for her right then and there. Even with so much still to learn and forgive, I loved her.

 **AN: You guys are the bees knees and the cat's pyjamas. I'm quite excited for you to read the next few chapters as Bella's story comes out.**

 **Much love to Ceceprincess1217 and Dicatakadd. Many many thanks to Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77, and my friends JulieToo and Lunabev.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	26. Chapter 26

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 26

"Now that we are colleagues of a sort, am I allowed to ask what it is you do underground? Or is it too soon?" I leaned against the counter across from the stove and watched as she warmed her milk. She dipped a tablespoon into a jar of honey and let it slowly pour into the pan of milk. She didn't say a word as it flowed like a ribbon, getting thinner and thinner, until it broke. I watched as it caught the moonlight coming from the kitchen windows. It played out the various tones of amber in the honey from umber to ochre. Then she used the same tablespoon to stir the milk until steam billowed from the surface. Bella poured her hot milk into an old ceramic beer stein before rummaging through a drawer for something. She hummed a single note and gently closed the drawer. In her hand she clutched a odd shaped tool. She opened a tiny compartment on the top and withdrew from it a rounded nut. She then scraped it along the length of the tool, creating a sort of powder that fell on top of the milk. She didn't speak until the tool was placed back in the drawer and she'd had a long sip of her drink.

"Did you know that nutmeg is said to have hallucinatory effects if taken in great quantities? As well, it can be poisonous if too much is ingested. But it has a lovely flavour when added to some dishes and can help a person relax when added to warm honeyed milk, which is a soporific unto itself?" She looked at me expectantly as if her impromptu speech was a normal part of an ongoing conversation and not a complete departure or non-answer of the question I had asked. I decided to play along for a bit.

"Is that what you added, nutmeg?"

"Yes, just a bit, nowhere near enough to cause harm. I find the properties and unusual uses of botanicals quite an interesting field of study. If I'd been male, I would have studied something like that in University, botany or chemistry or some such." She looked wistful as she talked.

"More and more girls are going to university now, you could still look into it. I'd allow it if it's what you'd really want. We could move to Augusta or Portland, or even to Boston, if you so desire." I didn't want to move, but I would for her. To try to make her happy, if that were possible.

"Thank you Edward. It was a pipe dream from a long time ago. It's kind of you to offer but it won't ever happen." Bella paused for a long moment.

"I'm not ready to tell you all my secrets. I need more time. I hope you will understand and respect that. I'm not saying no, just not yet."

I didn't like it but I did understand. This was not the time, either of night or of our marriage to delve into everything.

"Will you sleep tonight or are you going out again? I'm concerned for your health, Bella. It can't be good for you to be up all hours of the night."

"You'll be happy to know I am finished with my tasks for the night. I plan on several hours of uninterrupted sleep if I can manage it. The milk should help." She charged me with her mug and gave me a cheeky smile. I couldn't help but be swept into her cheery mood and gave her a beaming smile back.

"Well, then may I escort you to your room, Mrs Masen?"

She laughed again. She placed her mug in the sink, filled it with water and walked over to where I was lounging against the counter.

"Thank you, Mr Masen, for your lovely offer." I stood straighter and held my arm out to her. She slid her hand through the crook of my elbow and walked alongside of me. I hadn't really noticed her height in comparison to mine before. She was not quite a full head shorter than I. Her hair was lovely and rich-looking in it's dark brown colour. It hung straight down for the most part, but curled at bit at the ends which rested in the middle of her back. Some of it was pulled back at the temples by some sort of holder; I had no idea what it was called.

We mounted the stairs, climbing them quietly so as not to wake Charles, although at this point I was sure Charles could sleep through anything. We stopped outside her room and said our goodnights. I didn't want to leave her and go into my own room; I wasn't ready to be away from her just yet. But I also did not want to keep her from sleeping. I resigned myself to the idea that I would spend a few hours reading or studying until I could sleep myself.

Bella surprised me by stretching up on her toes and placing a soft kiss on my cheek. I was struck dumb. Where her lips had touched my cheek I could feel a burning, tingling sensation that started to radiate across my whole face. It was a lovely feeling.

By the time I recovered my senses, she was closing her bedroom door. I could have kicked myself for I had completely missed the opportunity to kiss her back. I might have been able to finesse her, to work my charm and get a real kiss.

 **AN: Beachcomberlc really did not like Edward 'allowing' Bella to go to school, but alas, that was the time period. It was very progressive of him, in truth, for not that many married went to University.**

 **Good thing is that I really like Beachcomberlc and her willingness to edit for me. I would be nothing without her, JulieToo, Lunabev and IpsitaC77.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	27. Chapter 27

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 27

After a few hours of study and contemplation, I came to the realization that I had no charm or finesse when it came to members of the opposite sex and I hadn't learned anything new in regards to the law either. I had no idea how to win the bride I already had, let alone convince her to kiss me. With those thoughts teasing my brain and dawn only a few hours away, I decided to go back to bed. I feared my days and nights becoming reversed and wondered is this was how vampires felt when they are newly created.

I woke feeling wonderfully refreshed and eager to start the day. The sun was climbing and it looked to be a nice day. I could just smell breakfast cooking and hear Charles shuffling in his room. I dressed and washed quickly before tearing down the stairs to find Bella. It was Saturday, my half day of work and we were scheduled to go to Aunt Esme's for lunch. I would have to face Uncle Carlisle and make him understand why I rushed headlong into marriage with Bella. He would be a much tougher sell than Esme, for I doubted he had much romance in him anymore. After all, he had been married for decades; he had already won his girl's hand so he needn't try very hard.

I was disappointed to find Bella not at the breakfast table, but working furiously in the kitchen when I came downstairs. Charles had beat me down by mere minutes but his plate was already laden heavily with food. Bella had made some paper thin crepes. Some were folded in quarters with jam spread inside, some were rolled with lemon and sugar, and the rest were left flat with a small pitcher of warm maple syrup to accompany. Charles looked perfectly content, so I left him be to go search for Bella.

I didn't have to look far for she was in the kitchen. She was removing cake pans from the oven when I found her. She gave me a weak smile and continued her work.

"Good morning, Bella. What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to soften the blow to your uncle in regards to your choice of bride by making a cake and appealing to his stomach. Your aunt accepted me well enough, but I'd rather not arrive empty-handed. Father loves this cake and it always puts him in a good mood, I thought it might work on Mr. Cullen just as well."

"It's a kind offer, but unnecessary. I'm a grown man, my uncle has no say over my choices."

"Edward, I know he is your only family; Father spent many days schooling me on your history. I won't be the cause of a rift between you and them. No matter what might happen with us, you will need to have them."

"You forget, Bella, that you are my family too." The following silence was tense before she finally spoke.

"Stale crepes are rather disgusting. You should eat before they turn or Father eats them all." She dismissed me. I allowed it. There was plenty of time later to convince her I was serious.

And I was hungry so I left the kitchen. Although I could have sworn she mumbled ' _family, for now'_ as I walked away.

Charles was very distracted as we worked that morning. He would huff and sigh, pace, slump in his seat, tap his pen and clear his throat frequently. I tried my best to ignore him and work through my pile of papers. I asked after him, but he shook me off.

I was out of my seat the second the clock struck twelve. Bella was waiting for me at the door with a beautifully decorated cake on a glass plate in her hands. Offhandedly, I asked Charles for the key to the gate so we could walk. I heard Bella hiss through her teeth as Charles glared at me. I hadn't made mention of it before, no one had, so I didn't think much about it as I said it. Charles just said "No" in a very stern voice. So I grabbed my hat, took the cake plate from Bella and followed her out of the house. She led me to the shed where Alice was parked and reclaimed the cake.

I carefully backed Alice out before opening Bella's door and helping her in. Once she and the cake were situated, I began to apologize.

"I'm sorry I brought up the gate, I don't know where my brain was. I don't know the significance but I'm sorry if I opened old wounds."

I had just enough time to finish my apology during the drive to the other gate, the back gate that shut, but not locked or chained.

When I got back into the car, Bella spoke.

"I don't know what my father has told you, but after those men broke into our house he permanently locked the front gate. He had always hated the gate and more the swans on it, so we always left them open. After, he locked it so no one else could get in. It's a futile effort but it makes him feel secure. Same with forbidding me and his wife from leaving the grounds. It was for his benefit alone." She stared out the passenger window for a moment.

I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to break the silence for the chance she might not tell me any more. She sighed and turned her face to me.

"I haven't been in a car for ages, Edward. Make her go fast, please. It's such a thrill."

I couldn't help but laugh with her.

"How fast do you want to go?" I asked as I pushed more firmly on the gas.

"As fast as you can without damaging my cake, please."

 **AN: I have a hankering for crepes now. Three cheers to Beachcomberlc for editing while on vacation in sunny climes. If I were somewhere warm and sunny, you'd bet your bippy I wouldn't be working. So, maybe it's a good thing I'm buried under 3 feet of snow.**

 **Thanks to my darlings: IpsitaC77, LunaBev and JulieToo. I hope Beachcomberlc finds that large piece of silver she's not really looking for.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	28. Chapter 28

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 28

Bella looked so young and carefree as I brought Alice up to her top speed. The trees along the lane seemed to whiz by. I regretted having to slow down as we neared the cross street. It was a thrilling few minutes.

In order to keep some conversation flowing, I introduced Bella to Alice. She snorted a quick laugh at the fact I named my car but agreed with my reasoning.

"I wish I had a friend like your Alice. She sounds marvellous." Bella looked so wistful and sounded a bit forlorn I wondered if she had any friends of her own. I hadn't seen or heard anyone in the last few days.

"Do you have anyone like that in your life?"

"I have two friends I can rely on but Father hates them. We've rigged a way to communicate that works for us." I wanted more, but as always she was sparing with her information.

"If they are nice girls and good friends, I don't really see why your father would find fault in them." I tried to sound hopeful.

"You might disapprove, but they are men. Emmett, his family farms nearby so he is the one who provides us with fresh vegetables and supplies. He leaves everything in the shed at the gate. Father has forbidden him to come any closer to the house. I leave him a note with money and he brings me staples and whatever else I need for cooking. His wife helps out with clothing and linens and any other such needs."

"And the other?" I could handle her having male friends, especially one who is married.

"Jasper. He used to work for Father as groundskeeper. I fell in love with him as a child; at times he was a better parent than either of my own. Father blamed him, in part, for the break in although he had nothing to do with it and couldn't have stopped them; he wasn't even there that weekend."

I did not like the sound of this Jasper fellow, not one bit.

"Was he your beau? Is that why you were so angry in regards to your father's plans for me?"

Her laughter filled the car.

"Jasper is ancient; he's even older than Father. I've never had a beau, never will." Bella's laughter tapered off, but she didn't sound sad, just resigned.

"Would you tell me more of your story later, perhaps after lunch? I mean, as much as you feel comfortable telling me, of course." I kept my expression from being too eager. If I had my way she'd tell me everything right now. However, I didn't want to interrogate her.

"To be honest, Edward, what happened was much more traumatic for Father than it was for me. He and his wife were unable to come to terms with it and it destroyed them. I just don't want you to lose respect for Father if I were to tell you what happened. Will you keep an open mind?"

I nodded and wanted to say more, but Aunt Esme opened the front door in wait for us to exit the car. I hadn't even noticed the rest of the drive or when we had arrived back home. I wondered how long we had been sitting there talking. The passage of time seemed to warp around Bella.

Esme greeted Bella and walked away with her arm-in-arm. I don't know if she realised she hadn't even looked at me, her own nephew. Uncle Carlisle laughed at the befuddled look on my face and asked me to speak with him in his study until lunch was called. I would have preferred not to but I couldn't go against him; I just wasn't raised that way.

I was shocked when he poured me a glass of whisky from his secret supply. Other than some homemade fruit wine, and only on very rare occasions, I hadn't know my uncle to drink. As a man of the law, I'd have thought he would follow prohibition and would have purged his house of hard spirits.

He charged his glass and made a toast.

"To your lovely bride, Isabella." I could do nothing but raise my glass and toast her myself.

"I'm so glad you married her, my boy, you have no idea. Rumours around town and society are she would never had married otherwise. There is something particularly sad about a girl from a good family being turned into a spinster over some gossip, founded or not."

I was scandalized by my uncle and his talk.

"What gossip? Who has been spreading rumours?" I shot at him.

"Calm yourself, there is always gossip. I had a feeling when he asked you to clerk for him that Charles Swan had earmarked you for his daughter. I'm just a bit shocked at the speed he worked. Mind you, she is comely enough on her own to catch a man, if she were to put her mind to it, but she'd have to leave the house to do just that." He seemed lost in thought but speaking them as they entered his head.

"I don't suppose we'll ever know what really happened, will we? I've heard bits and pieces at the barber or in the courthouse halls. But nevertheless, it doesn't matter now, does it? She is your bride and falls under your protection. So, tell me, when will we see you out of your clerkship and at the bar? Soon?"

I didn't know how to answer him or if I even wanted to. I was struggling to remember why I respected my uncle in the first place and if I ever could again.

Luckily, Aunt Esme called us in for lunch just then.

 **AN: Now we'll all be craving whisky instead of crepes. Cheers dears.**

 **Beachcomberlc edited and corrected this for me, sober and everything. Lunabev, JulieToo and IpsitaC77 keep me giddy enough not to need a drink.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	29. Chapter 29

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 29

When I downed my drink and coughed, Uncle Carlisle laughed at me, that pompous ass. It had been so long since I'd had hard liquor I was almost new to it. Not that I'd ever been a drinker. Even during my brief stint at war I didn't drink heavily. Firstly, British ale was too strong both in taste and potency and second, there wasn't much around to drink, or rather, I felt it best to leave what little there was to the people who needed it more than I.

Isabella fit seamlessly into my small family. She didn't talk much but she smiled a great deal. The cake she made was wonderful. It had a flavour I couldn't place but Aunt Esme caught it. I'd never even heard of herbs in a cake, however the combination of lavender and rosemary was so incredible. The cake itself was a work of art as Bella decorated it with tiny candied flowers; violets and primrose petals on a pale cream-coloured icing.

I have to admit I was was a bit disappointed when she left the remainder of the cake for my aunt. She accepted both a firm hug and a kiss from Aunt Esme, a handshake from Uncle Carlisle (which surprised me immensely) and she exchanged recipes with Charlotte. Although if I was surprised by her in regards to Uncle Carlisle, I was absolutely gobsmacked when, instead of getting into the car, she sought out Peter and had a whispered conversation with him before I could catch up with her. I saw Peter talking to her and for the first time I had ever seen, he was doing most of the talking.

I wanted to ask her about her exchange with him but she looked too happy and quite serene; I didn't want to spoil her mood. Instead of going home, she directed me to a small road that was almost overgrown and difficult to see. I worried momentarily for Alice's undercarriage, but I quickly put past to that when the drive turned out to be quite smooth. The road twisted a great deal and then ended abruptly with a broken bridge over a gentle stream.

I silenced Alice's engine and waited for Bella to tell me why we were here. She sat for a few moments before slowly opening the door. I rushed as quickly as I could, but in the time it took me to run around to her side she had already started walking over to the water and the remains of the bridge.

"Many clandestine affairs happened here or at least that was the rumour when I was younger. People may have found a new spot by now. I had always wanted to see it, to catch someone out here but I was never allowed. Pity, it would be a nice place for a picnic, don't you think?" She wheeled around to face me as she spoke. I could see the charm of the place, secluded and quiet.

"I'll tell you as much as I can but we shouldn't take too long here. Father will worry, even if I'm with you. I don't think he's ready to let me go just yet." Bella led me over to a collection of large rocks and brushed one off to sit. I handed her my clean handkerchief and she arranged it on the rock before taking her seat. I leaned against the broken pillar that was once a support footing for the bridge, waiting for her to start.

"I don't think my mother ever knew how to love anyone but herself. Their marriage wasn't arranged, but it was well-orchestrated. Father was already a well-known, established legal figure and her parents wanted the match. Mother wanted to live in Boston or New York or, even better, London. She made no secret that she hated it here; the house, the town and most of the people who lived nearby." There was no mistaking the sour look on Bella's face.

"She felt herself better than everyone for her fancy French name and the legacy of living in one of the grander homes in town. Father fell in love with her. When they were courting, she was the ideal, demure young thing; it wasn't until after they were married that her true colours came out. She didn't know that part of the reason for the marriage was that Father also fell in love with the town and the house. But, moreover he came to love my great-grandfather. They were so much alike and the old man adored his Charlie. My grandfather died young, when my mother was a girl; her mother remarried once, unsuccessfully, so she was raised here.

"Great-grandfather left the house to Father, possibly as a consolation for having to deal with Mother, I don't know. But anyway, she wasn't the warm and caring person a mother or wife should be. I don't want you to think she was cruel or anything like that; she didn't beat me or imprison me, she just didn't really care unless it had something to do with her directly. I had a lovely, sweet governess for a long time before I started school."

Bella looked down at her hands for a few moments, lost in thought, I guess. She cleared her throat before resuming her tale.

"Father was blinded by her. God, he loved her to distraction. And she could do no wrong in his eyes. I learned that early. I didn't mind. I knew he loved me too, but differently and secondary to her. I spent most of my time with Jasper anyway. He and his wife Maria lived on the property. Maria was sickly and passed when I was about ten or eleven. Jasper just kept working; I don't think theirs was a happy marriage, either. I was Jasper's little shadow. He taught me a great deal about plants and other things. He let me get dirty and he treated me so well, I couldn't help but love him. Mother didn't approve once I began to grow, if you know what I mean."

She looked at me pointedly and I understood. It wasn't proper for a young girl who was just turning into a woman to be palling around with the older gardener. No matter how innocent their relationship was, how familial, someone would talk and it could ruin the family name, and Bella's reputation.

 **AN: Thank you for reading.**

 **Many, many thanks to Beachcomberlc for putting up with me. Thanks to JulieToo and Lunabev. Much love to IpsitaC77 for helping fill in some gaping holes.**


	30. Chapter 30

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

 **While there is mention of physical abuse, it is not detailed or salacious. There is and there will be NO sexual assault in this story.**

Chapter 30

Bella stood up and slowly walked around the very small clearing at the end of the road and the start of the bridge. She smiled thinly at me, gathering her thoughts.

"Just after she forbade me Jasper, I found the hatch under the junipers. I don't know for certain but I think, maybe, Jasper found it for me. It was such good timing. I stole a few candles and some old pillows and made a nest. I read, made my paperdolls endless outfits and talked to myself in there. I had the most marvellous time, those long summer days underground. Mother didn't seem to notice; I was occupied and out from underfoot. Father worked hard and rose through the circuits. It was great until Mother found me there. She took it away from me just as she had Jasper.

"Mother decided that fourteen was the right age to learn to cook so she banished me to the kitchen under the care of the cook. I loved it. I loved the science of it and the fact that Mother seldom entered there. I didn't know what she was up to, and neither did Father."

I wanted to ask for details, but didn't want to stop the flow of her story.

"I need to know you a bit better before I tell you what Mother was up to and why. There are certain measures on which I'm unclear when it comes to you. And I can't ask you directly because it would give you too much at once. Please, I really feel badly for keeping you in the dark. But, if I give you too much, others might suffer. I am sorry, Edward."

I waited for a moment before answering.

"I obviously don't understand, but I can be patient. Although life would be much easier if you were to trust me. Until then, I'll wait." Bella breathed a sigh of relief.

'While I was studying in the kitchen, I met Emmett. He delivered our goods by wagon every other day. He became the brother I never had. He had just married Rosalie and was under that rush of romance only a newlywed feels. She is his whole world; moon and stars, too."

Bella stopped her slow pacing and sat on the handkerchief-covered rock again. There was something unspoken between us in that moment. As if we were both wondering, in the few days since our own wedding, if life would ever be like that for us. Maybe one day, maybe soon she would be my world, my one and only and I would be hers. I think I was more receptive to this idea than she was because I looked her straight in the eye, almost challenging her to ask, and she could not bring herself to look into mine. I wanted her to; to ask, to challenge, to look, but like many other things about Bella, I'd wait.

"Once Mother saw I was enjoying the cookery lessons she ended them. After that, there was a procession of tutors and instructors. I left school at sixteen, graduating at the top of the class. Mother was too busy then to deal with me. She'd found her own entertainments by then."

I noticed then that it was growing darker. It was still very early, but the sun had started its descent and the angle made the forest creep up on us. Without discussion, we made our way back into the car and began to return home.

"Father knows nothing about my relationship with Mother. He only ever saw us pretending for him, and we were very good at it. Father wanted me to be seen, for me to find a husband and he didn't know that Mother couldn't have cared less about my future. He had a new circuit and had to travel for some cases; he wasn't around nearly half as much as before. I think Mother liked that. She may have even encouraged it. She arranged for him to take up fishing as a way to relax. That, I know, she encouraged as much as possible. Father's bailiff, William Black, has both a boat and a truck, so getting Father away for a few days was quite easy.

It was during one of those trips that three men broke into our house. It was a Friday evening. Cook had her days off, and Jasper was away for the week. It was just Mother and I in the house until Monday morning. They wanted something, but Mother refused to tell them where it was. They tied her to Father's chair and slapped her across the face, but she wouldn't budge. Two of them found me and brought me into Father's study where Mother was. The leader hit me, first a slap on the face, then a punch to the arm, shoulder, stomach and side. Mother still refused. He ordered his fellows to remove my dress to the waist and tie me down across Father's desk. All the while I was screaming at them and fighting them as best I could. Jasper and Emmett had taught me some very colourful language. I was able to inflict some injuries mostly by catching them off guard with my protests. I guess they were expecting some delicate, fragile, or timid little girl. They hadn't bargained on a hellcat in a slip."

She looked at me side-eyed. Despite the horrible story she was telling me, we both had a quick laugh. It was a momentary reprieve and a way to break the rising tension in the car.

"Ah, yes. I have encountered your colourful language, Bella. Very salty coming from a young lady of your breeding." I commented using my best haughty voice and a wink which made her laugh.

We had arrived back at the house then and she waited as I opened the gate to drive in.

There was a battered and slightly rusted truck parked behind the house.

 **AN: Thank you for reading. You guys are the best.**

 **Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77 both added their polish to this chapter and story, and I adore them for doing so. Lunabev and JulieToo make me happy.**


	31. Chapter 31

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 31

Bella didn't seem concerned or shocked by the strange truck outside her home. I guess it was something she had seen before; a frequent visitor that I knew nothing about. The view from my aunt and uncle's house only afforded me a view of the side of the house. I was now starting to realize that there was much more going on at the house than I knew.

She made no effort to exit the vehicle, so I waited for a few moments. Slowly, I got out and walked around to her side. I opened her door but did not move out of her way, trapping her in her seat.

"Thank you for going with me and for that wonderful cake. Thank you for telling me some of your story and trusting me with it. I know there is much more and I will wait until there is time enough to tell me, if you are willing." Bella blushed as I stood at her side, but she kept her head down as her fingers traced the narrow grey ribbon running up and down her skirt.

"However, before you do, there are a few things I need clarified. You said you've never had a beau and that you never will. You're wrong. I am your beau. I always will be for as long as you allow." She looked up at me, wide-eyed.

"Edward…" Her voice was so soft and low, she all but breathed the word, my name.

"I don't know why you think yourself less than the ideal bride. Other than a few quirks, I see nothing about you that is anything but ideal. We all have some eccentricities and foibles. I mean, look at my aunt and uncle. I could tell you some very odd tales regarding them and their marriage. My parents, too. No couple is perfect from what I've seen. So I really don't understand your views about yourself. I think you're beautiful."

She blushed ever further. I decided to be bold. I leaned into the car and gently pressed my lips to her face, just at the corner of her mouth. When she didn't react badly and or shy from me, I took it as a good sign and kissed her directly, lip-to-lip. Her mouth was soft and so inviting I couldn't help pressing kiss after kiss until I felt her lips part ever so slightly. I was afraid I would fall into the car and onto her lap, so I reached in with my right hand and placed my hand on the seat by her hip, caging her in further. I would have liked to bring her out of the car and hold her against me, but I didn't think she was ready for that yet. Very slowly, I let my tongue run along the seam of her lips. This time she reacted with a small noise. I took it as a sign to slow down. I pressed one last long kiss on her lips, then much gentler and shorter ones to her nose, brow and forehead. I pulled back but kept my hand bracing me at her hip, my other was holding onto the door's frame.

Bella let her eyes open slowly; I could see her lashes fluttering against her cheek, until she finally looked at me. She began to speak, but stopped herself a few times.

"You can say anything to me, Bella. It won't change my mind." I tried to encourage her. "In fact, I would like it if you were more yourself, rather than what your father wants you to be. He needs to realize that you are married now and an adult. You don't have to pretend any longer, if you don't want to. You can dress as you please and wear your hair up if it pleases you." I lifted my hand to move her hair from her shoulder away from her face. She flinched away from me and smoothed it back to where it had been. I took a step back from her and pulled my body away from the open car door. I thought I saw a red mark or some kind of scar on her neck just under her collar, but she hid from too quickly to tell for certain.

Bella turned in the seat and swung her legs out of the car.

"Thank you Edward. I will consider what you've said. I just don't know if Father is ready for all that." She wouldn't meet my eye but she spoke in a clear, firm voice. She stood and closed the car door. She waited off to the side as I parked Alice in her small shed. She took my arm when I was done and we walked very slowly back to the house.

"You may be surprised by your father in the end. Why, just today before lunch, I was shocked by my uncle. I found out that he, His Honour Judge Cullen, keeps a few bottles of whisky. He's breaking the same laws he is charged with upholding. I can easily overlook the wine my aunt has as it's harmless. It's simply fruit, carefully fermented fruit, but nothing to worry over. It could be seen as medicinal and therefore necessary."

"Will you turn him in?" She asked, quite eagerly.

"No, of course not. First off, I think prohibition is asinine and second, his whisky was very, very tasty. It would be a great shame to see it running down the road." I laughed at my own joke before I noticed she wasn't laughing with me.

 **AN: Beachcomberlc is far too patient with me and my mistakes. Many thanks to her, IpsitaC77, Lunabev and JulieToo.**

 **For those who are no longer enjoying the suspense, I am currently writing chapter 39. By the time you read it, most but not all of your questions will be answered. Granted, there may be new questions to ask as well.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	32. Chapter 32

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 32

Charles greeted us but was very agitated and distracted. He quickly introduced his friend and bailiff, William Black, the owner of the battered truck outside. He shooed us away and barricaded himself and Mr. Black in his study.

I wanted to continue our conversation and glean more information from Bella, but she had domestic work to do. I was willing to help if it were dishes or something of the sort but I had no interest in dusting, sweeping or scouring, so I left her to it. Instead, I found myself a novel and hunkered down for a good long read. I awoke hours later to find a hand-knit blanket across my lap, the smell of dinner in the air and the lamps lit for evening.

Charles and Mr. Black took dinner in the study. I helped Bella prepare the trays and carried them for her. She and I ate in the kitchen where we discussed trivial bits of personal information. We found a few commonalities in literature and music. She wanted to know more of my parents, Chicago, and my wartime effort. I was willing to dominate the conversation and encouraged the single-sided exchange. Bella had given and told me so much, she had to feel wrung out by now. If a few hours of probing into my past helped her gather her thoughts and emotions, I was all for it.

The night was balmy and, more than likely, one of the last nice warm nights we would be having as autumn was about to set in. I offered and Bella jumped at the idea of a wander in the garden as dusk settled upon us. The small garden, as wild as it was now, gave off a lush aroma of herbs and ripe fruit, but the pervading scents were of juniper bushes and evergreen trees.

We walked down to the shed near the gate, where Bella placed her order note for Emmett to fill. She said he would pick it up after church services in town and fill it on Monday for her. If we caught him in time she promised to introduce me, although she mentioned that he would not be pleased regarding our marriage. He wasn't privy to what had happened, and he only knew that Charles had turned odd, forbidding him from the property and Bella from leaving it. Emmett had been trying, half-heartedly, to get Bella to leave her father and free herself. He didn't understand why she stayed. Most of this argument was conducted through letters and notes hidden within the groceries. Emmett would most likely react badly to my presence and want to know my intentions. She casually mentioned that Emmett was a brute of a man, tall, broad and very fit. When I blanched at the sound of that, she smirked. I hadn't seen that expression from her yet and it was, to date, my favourite.

As we continued our stroll, she picked up the story as if hours had not passed.

"The leader of the group kept yelling at Mother but she refused to give in. No matter how many times he slapped her, she was immovable. She became even more stubborn when they started in on me. I had no idea what they wanted and I would have told them if I had known. They left me tied to the desk and Mother to the chair while they searched the house. I may have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, dawn was breaking and I was still trapped. Things got worse after that."

She stopped walking and turned to face me.

"When Father found us, the one question he asked over and over was 'Did they touch you?' as if it were the most important thing. He mostly believes me but he has doubts. They did not touch me in the way that matters to a father or a husband. I know you've been wanting to know that, in your heart, without wanting to ask. I need you to know the truth before I continue. I wouldn't lie about it to save face, other things perhaps, but not about that."

I believed her, I couldn't help but believe her, yet I still had to ask for myself.

"You weren't violated?" I asked softly, gently as if in the asking I'd injure her less by being quiet.

"Not in the way you mean. The break-in was a violation. Everything that occurred was a violation, but I was not molested or seduced. The leader of the group untied me and stripped me to the waist before retying me to the desk, face down. Not before threatening to harm me in that way to get Mother's reaction. When she didn't give him one, he went on with other tortures." I didn't know if she was done speaking of this for the night, she paused for so long.

"He tried to use my mother's love for me as a way to get what he wanted from her. Little did he know it was a useless effort. She never loved me, her only child, nor did she ever love anyone but herself. I learned that lesson long before he did." Bella didn't sound bitter or vengeful when speaking of her mother in this way, just factual almost resigned. It was sadder than hearing of her being beaten and would be worse to stomach than what she had yet to tell me.

We walked, letting what she'd said sink in. The quiet night was disturbed by Mr. Black starting the engine of his truck and driving away. We headed back to the house.

 **AN: For the longest time the word rape or sexual assault wasn't used as a legal term. A woman forced sexually against her will was 'seduced', I supposed to lessen the severity of the assault. It was patriarchy as it best.**

 **Beachcomberlc is my long suffering editor, beta and friend. I would be lost with out her, IpsitaC77, JulieToo and Lunabev. I would not be a story-teller without a reader, so I'd also be lost without you.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	33. Chapter 33

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 33

Charles was nowhere to be found. We decided, after some half-hearted searching, that he must have gone up to bed; it was a little early for him but not out of the ordinary. Although it was well past the time Bella usually turned in. I asked her about her sleep and her nocturnal activities. She very nicely refused to tell me what she did underground in the dead of night but promised to tell me in the near future. I was unsatisfied, but didn't see any reason to press the matter. She had given me so much information freely, by demanding more she might just silence herself completely.

I leaned against the kitchen counter as she performed a few tasks for the next day. She was meticulously organised for one so young.

As the sound of Charles' snoring reached us she looked at me with a glint of mirth in her eye.

"I guess he won't be needing his glass of water tonight." She murmured quietly.

I glanced at her with fake indignation. I had been ninety percent certain she was helping him sleep and drugged me as well that first night but I now had confirmation.

"So...what do you put in his water? Should I fear for my life now that I have a poisoner bride?"

"Oh no, no." She was shocked and very contrite. "I put a little Veronal in his water to help; it's not dangerous or poisonous at all, just a simple store bought sleep aid. After the incident I was plagued by nightmares, I would wake up screaming and it would disturb him. Mother refused to allow a doctor to come to the house to see after my injuries, but Jasper had some experience as a medic during the Spanish-American war. He brought me the drugs."

I interrupted her, I couldn't help it but there was something I had to know.

"Jasper was a Roughrider? What is he doing working as a groundskeeper on an estate in New England?"

A very soft smile came on her face as she spoke about Jasper, as if he were her father, not Charles.

"He hated the war. He hated the fighting, the climate, the death; all of it. I guess he had the equivalent of shell-shock. He chose to move here to be as far away from that time and place as he could. His wife wasn't pleased, she wanted them to stay and for him to pursue the law or doctoring. However, Jasper wanted a career outdoors. He farmed for a while, but it wasn't for him. Grandfather hired him and he stayed on after his death. I was born the month after he started here. Maria didn't give him any children and, as you know, Mother was not up for the job. Maria looked after me in my infancy. She believed babies should be outside as much as possible so she'd leave me in my carriage and Jasper would always find work to do near me so he could look out for me."

She came to stand before me. She laid her hands on my shoulders to capture my full attention; as if she didn't have it already. Her feet were on either side of my crossed ankles.

"I didn't mean any harm when I put the sleeping draught in your water. I was afraid with the new changes and turn of events that I would have nightmares and wake you, just as I used to with my father. I wasn't ready to have you know about that part of my past. And I was angry. But I would never, never hurt you or my father. I may be damaged, but I'm not homicidal or cruel. I promise."

I believed her.

"I give it to my father still because I need the escape his full night's sleep gives me. I have chores he can't know about; work that has to get done. Granted, it is my choice to do them at night but it was the most convenient time. Especially because he works from home now. He had to watch me closely, in the beginning, but as time wore on he wouldn't ease up. So, I helped him. The system worked well, ever better after Mother turned ill. I was her nursemaid during the day and was free to do as I pleased in the dark."

I yawned then, not because she was boring me, but I was honestly tired. It was surprisingly draining, that day, with everything I'd learned. Her hands were still on my shoulders and as I was leaning, her face was almost level to mine. I put my hands on her waist and pulled her in a little closer. Just as before in the car, I kissed the side of her mouth first, gauging her reaction, before pressing my lips to hers. Bella leaned even closer to me, not quite touching our bodies together but close enough for me to feel warmth radiate from her. She slid her hands from my shoulder to the back of my neck and wound her fingers into my hair. It was an amazing feeling, being allowed to hold her and touch her in this way. She pulled away much too soon for my liking, but we stayed there cheek-to-cheek for a long moment. She stood back and ran her hand over my neck to hold onto my face.

"Thank you Edward."

"For what?" I had no idea I had done anything worth thanking."

"For today, for listening, and for taking me out of here. But most of all, thank you for making this the best birthday I've had in years."

 **AN: Thank you for reading. Thank you to Beachcomberlc and IspitaC77 for helping to mold this into a readable story. Thank you to JulieToo and Lunabev for bringing me smiles.**


	34. Chapter 34

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 34

"Why didn't you tell me it was your birthday? Why didn't Charles tell me? I would have done something or bought a present for you if I had known. I'm sorry, Bella." I stammered apology after apology to no avail for I didn't feel any better afterward.

"Shh. It's no matter, Edward. Truly this was the best birthday I've had, that I can remember. I got to go visiting and to the house I've longed to see for years. I used to dream about living in one of those turret rooms as a girl. The people who owned the house before your aunt and uncle did not favour children. I was shooed away whenever I lingered at the gate to watch and dream."

She took my hand and led me out of the kitchen. I was a bit reluctant to leave as I had been hoping for more kissing before bed. But I followed her. She pulled me into the dining room and opened the dark curtains. The tops of the square turrets of my aunt and uncle's house could just be seen. I knew my former room was in between those architectural features, and I presume, Charles' room was right above us.

"I don't think Father knows the significance of today. But I don't mind. Think about it; I had my favourite breakfast, lunch out, a rest by the river with a handsome man and his undivided attention. I even had cake. It was more birthday than I'd had in years and I'm happy. If Father remembers, it will be lovely but even if he doesn't, I'm still content."

A passing cloud shifted just then and the glow of the moon hit the transomed stained glass windows of the turret at the back of my family's house. The room was meant to be a nursery, bright with sun and colour.

"When I dreamed about living there, that was my room. With a fancy canopied bed and gauzy curtains, much like the netting one would need if one slept in a tropical climate, but more romantic. I could imagine laying on the floor as the colours swirled around me, or watching them play across the ceiling. It would be like living in a kaleidoscope." She sighed and I could almost picture her as a young girl, not bitter by years of bad parenting and circumstance, but innocent and sweet.

"I used to lie in bed and wonder about your house too, Bella. Why it was so dark, neglected and forlorn. It captured my attention. Then, when I was finally able to leave the house, I encountered the locked gate. That just added to the surrounding mystery. Uncle Carlisle told me what little he knew, a very, very little. Aunt Esme and Charlotte fleshed out the story a bit, but nothing they said prepared me for you, Bella."

She didn't turn her head to me but I could see a sheen of water gather in the corner of her eye. I didn't know if they were good tears, tears of relief or of sadness. I didn't know the effect my being in her life had on her. Not yet, anyway. I turned my attention back to the house in front of us, giving her time to play out her emotions. I so wanted her to ask if it was a good thing or bad, having her in my life. Alas, she stayed silent. I could have allayed her fears and swept her into my arms and kissed her soundly. I would have, if prompted in any way.

Instead, we stood watching and just being for a long time. I grew sleepy and listened as Bella stifled a yawn.

"Will you stay in tonight or do you have plans?" It was not the question I wanted to ask but it was the only way I could come up with a reasonable question at all. I knew she wanted to wait to tell me everything and I had a feeling if she were pushed to answer she would prickle and withdraw.

"I have no work tonight but I do tomorrow. I also would like a chance to tidy and organise a bit; to make it more presentable for you. Would you give me that time?" She looked at me, timid and apprehensive, as if I'd demand she show me now.

"That would give me a chance to rest up. I fear too many late nights will wear me down. I'm in need of my beauty sleep, don't you know?" I put on a silly grin and flounced a clumsy curtsey. It had its proper effect, for she laughed. I was working my way into her heart little by little any way I could.

The next day went by very quickly. Come Monday, Charles was in a mood and hardly spoke; he seemed more distant and lost than I had ever seen him. He left me to my work, for the most part, but added a few more cases to my load. With my mind so occupied, I didn't notice the passing of time.

The days that followed were just the same. Filled with work, mundane but delightful all at the same time. I slept well, unaided, and didn't worry if I heard Bella moving about in the night. She would come to me when she was ready. We still spoke, she didn't hide away from me as she did the week before. Meals were pleasant, once Charles' mood was negotiated.

Towards the end of the week the tenor of the house changed drastically. Charles exploded in a fury of paperwork and fretting. I was almost willing to drug him myself by the end of the day.

 **AN: Next we meet Emmett, after that we descend into the hatch. Thank you for reading, it means the world to me.**

 **Thank you to Beachcomberlc for making me readable and keeping me sane. Thank you IpsitaC77 for keeping me crazy enough to continue. Thanks to JulieToo and Lunabev, both beautiful women.**


	35. Chapter 35

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 35

By Wednesday, I'd had enough of Charles and his temper. I was of half a mind to let him have it, take my bride and leave. I didn't, but I dreamed of doing it. It was rather empowering.

Instead I listened as he fumed about the office and watched as he wrote what seemed to be reams of notes.

Three things kept me going and my tongue silent. One, Bella promised to show me her lair, for want of a better word. Two, Emmett was due in the morning and wanted to meet me. And finally, Charles had a long fishing trip planned with Mr. Black and was leaving at dawn on Friday. I could put up with a great deal knowing when he returned, he'd be in a much better temper.

I learned a little more about Bella every day. Tiny pieces of information I hoarded like precious jewels. She loved to dance, hated to sing, adored the colour green, well, a specific shade of green - sage. She didn't like the taste of it as an herb but loved the shape, smell and feel of the leaves. She couldn't draw and disliked having to write in school. She favoured mathematics and excelled in physical sciences.

Much to my joy, I found Bella to be very tactile. When we would talk, after dinner and dishes, she had to have something to occupy her fingers. She always had a small length of ribbon to worry or an acorn, pinecone, or seed pod. Once, when she had dropped her ribbon, she reached for my hand and stroked my fingers as she would the fabric. It was a glorious feeling. She gently ran her fingers across my palm and the lines there before turning it over and playing with the short, coarse hairs and the raised blue veins. In the fading light of a warm fall evening, it was one of the more erotic moments in my life to date. It was intimate and surreal. We had been married just over a week, she was still holding so much back from me, not out of malice, but fear I would react badly. As much as I wanted to, we had yet to consummate our marriage. I had made a promise not to push and I knew she wasn't ready. But her hands on mine as she spoke in that wonderful husky, throaty voice of hers was a sexual experience. One that stayed with me long into the night.

I had always thought of myself as a tall man. I was taller than most, my father and uncle included. Just over six foot with my length predominately in the leg which added to the illusion making me seem taller still. Properly dressed with a hat and I would almost always be the tallest in the room. Emmett McCarty made me feel tiny. Not that he was much taller than I. In fact, I'd say we were very close in height. But the size of him, the huge thick muscles of his shoulders added to his imposing stature. Granted, I hadn't built up the muscle loss I had from my illness and I had always been lean and trim, but standing in front of Emmett was truly humbling. Bella woke me very early and marched me down to the gate to meet the behemoth that was her friend. He was wearing dirty dungarees, suspenders and a faded striped shirt with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. His forearms were the size of a mutton leg. He wore a cloth cap on his head covering dark brown curls. He looked as if he could be Bella's much larger elder brother.

He took one look at me and roared with laughter. He bent at the waist, slapping his knees in mirth. I didn't really want to know, but I had a suspicion I was the joke that amused him so. I wasn't offended. If he found me amusing then he might approve of me for her because I was non-threatening.

Bella slapped him on the back to get him to contain himself. It still took several minutes before he was calm enough for introductions. I expected him to try to crush my hand when we shook but he was gentle, perhaps a bit too gentle as if I were spindly and breakable. Every time his eyes met mine, I could see his level of giddiness rise. He could only stay for a few minutes, so he chatted with Bella as he unloaded boxes of goods and filled a small cart that was just inside the shed for her to bring back to the house.

When he was done, he turned to me. He took off his cap and wiped his brow.

"I guess I really don't need to worry about her anymore, not with you around. Even if you are a twiggy little thing, I can see you'd never do her harm. And now that you've seen me, you know what would await you should you hurt her. Don't go mucking this up, Eddie-boy." There was no veil to his threat and I nodded frantically. Despite my fear of this mammoth man, his only concern was for Bella so we were united in a way. I appreciated him and vowed to eat more, possibly engage in some calisthenics or other exercise.

Bella spent the rest of the day preparing travelling foods for Charles while he piled task after task on my desk to be completed while he was gone.

As a parting note, just before dinner he cornered me. He reminded me of the promises I made before I agreed to marry Bella. To not touch her until she was ready, to keep her safe and to lie if anyone asks where Charles was that week. He left me a detailed map of where he said they'd be fishing. I knew something was amiss with him and this trip, but at the same time, I was reluctant to inquire the reason. I had a feeling there would be no good coming from it.

I was right.

 **AN: Thank you for reading. Thank you to Lunabev, JulieToo, IpsitaC77 and Beachcomberlc. Today is a busy, busy, go, go kind of day, so I leave you with a cliffy. I do it out of love, you know that, right?**


	36. Chapter 36

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 36

I didn't hear Charles leave the next morning. In fact, I slept in well past my normal waking time. I was woken by Bella knocking on my bedroom door, a full breakfast tray in her hands. We shared the tray and lounged about for at least an hour. I was very happy to have her in my room. I had dreamed many times about having her here, although, we were unclothed in those dreams. After breakfast was consumed, she left me to wash and dress. I felt so decadent, being slothful in bed until nine, but it was a lovely time with her and one I wish to repeat several times over if not daily.

I worked through Charles' list of jobs until lunchtime. I followed my nose and stomach to find Bella making another cake, this one just a scrumptious looking as the last. I convinced her to take the afternoon off with me and go for another drive. She enjoyed driving so much before, we planned a longer jaunt. I even talked her into an early dinner out, with the mind to having her lovely cake for dessert. She promised to take me down to her workshop, her words, not mine, after. It would be a great day, I hoped.

First, we drove past Emmett's farm and I was amazed at the size of the spread. No wonder he was such a beast of a man with all that land to work. Even with all the latest in farm equipment and tools, there was still much to do by hand. Their homestead was actually three separate homes. One for Emmett and his wife, Emmett's parents and school-aged children were in the largest of the three, and the last was for another married brother. There was construction started for yet another home, as Emmett's eldest sister had just wed her beau and they were taking their place in the family business.

Bella then directed me down a bumpy country lane to a small lake where we wandered and talked. We kept the conversation inconsequential. We both knew that once we were back at the house, the rest of the story would have to come out. It wouldn't be pleasant, not in the telling nor the hearing. However, it had hung over our heads for too long and we needed to escape from the weight of it. Charles would not be there to interrupt or offend. We had all the time in the world so we dawdled. We found a nice place for dinner in the next town over. A few people stared, but I wasn't sure if it was due to Bella's notoriety or her beauty. I like to think beauty because I caught a glimpse of us walking together arm-in-arm in the glass of a store we passed on our way to eat, and we did make a handsome couple. Bella wore a more modern floral dress in shades of blue with a long white scarf across her neck and her hair pinned back but flowing. I was in a dark grey suit and we fit together perfectly.

The sun was just starting to set as we reached the house. The closer we got, the more nervous Bella became. Her hands were shaking and she dropped her handbag twice. I decided not to pull Alice into her little garage and parked behind the house. I took both of Bella's hands in mine and tried to calm her. We decided to forgo dessert and ventured straight to the root cellar. The door was still very hard to see, even with the sky bright with sun. I waited topside for Bella to light the room before I climbed down.

The floor was stone, but smoothed by years of wear. I could stand but there wasn't much room over my head; I could easily touch the wooden ceiling. Every foot or so along the ceiling were copper disks about two inches in diameter. Bella had lit a series of lanterns around the room, making it very cosy. A long workbench ran the length of the room with a system of shelves on the opposite wall. The shelves were filled with glass bottles in a graduating pattern with a line of small crates at the top. Small bottles and phials were at eye level for Bella, then pint jars, quart jars, gallon jugs and the last row was massive crocks similar to ones you might see housing pickles at the general store, but with a spout and cork. Against the far wall, in between the workbench and the stores was a giant copper contraption. A big kettle shape over a fire grate, with tubes and pipes flowing in and out of it. I don't think if I were to place my arms around it my hands would touch on the other side.

The jars were all clear glass, but some were tinted in varying pale shades. Some had bits and pieces floating near the top at the lid, others had a layer at the bottom of the jar.

The room was spotlessly clean and organised with the same meticulous care as the kitchen in the house. I turned to look at Bella after I finished my initial inspection. She was standing by the door, biting the side of her thumb and watching me look about her lair. I could all but see the nervousness radiating from her, so intense was her unease. She was expecting me to yell, scream or berate her, maybe, possibly for me to strike her.

For, you see, my sweet, innocent, delicate and fragile bride was running a goddamned still under her father's nose.

 **AN: Oh boy. I'm just going to leave this here and run away for the day.**

 **See you on Monday for more. Thanks to Beachcomberlc for supreme beta services. Thank you to IpsitaC77, JulieToo and Lunabev for everything else.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	37. Chapter 37

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 37

"What is all this?" I tried to keep any note of anger or judgement out of my voice, but it was really hard. This was huge and illegal and dangerous and many other things I couldn't think of at the time.

"I told you I had a propensity towards botany and chemistry. It turns out I have a talent for it as well." Bella responded sheepishly as if she were admitting to something innocuous.

"So, you're involved in a dangerous criminal activity underground and undercover of night that your father, a man whose life's work is to interpret and uphold the laws of the land, is completely blind to? But, that's of no consequence because you have a talent for it?" I am ashamed to admit my voice got rather shrill and squeaky. I took a seat on the steps and lowered my head onto my knees. My chest felt better constricted that way. When I was no longer heaving for my breath, I looked up at her. She was still nibbling the side of her thumb and she looked so very sweet and innocent. She sat down in front of the still and spoke.

"When I used it as a playroom, it wasn't like this. When Mother evicted me, she built this. She elicited the help of Jasper and Peter to get her the supplies and equipment. She wasn't very good at it but she made a passable alcohol, a sour mash whisky. It was just another one of her cheap thrills. She was so proud of herself. She started giving it away and then trying to sell it, but she drank more than she sold. A few of her society girls bought from her and she swore them to secrecy.

"I guess one of them passed the word around to the wrong person and the men who broke in came looking for the still and the stock. She refused to tell them where it was. They searched the house from top to bottom, but didn't find it. I was seventeen and full of hope, only to have it dashed completely by my own mother. It didn't matter to her what they did to me; she wouldn't give up her still. They tied me to my father's desk, mostly naked and gathered a few things. A few pots of ink, a full but cold ashpan, some old wine corks, a few dust rags and all of the sewing needles they could find. As my mother watched they scratched and poked some sort of design all over my back. It hurt like the devil. I screamed myself mute and still, she would do nothing to save me. I bled and from her — nothing.

One would think it would be so difficult to watch that kind of suffering and not do everything in your power to stop it if you could, right?"

I nodded. I couldn't speak.

"The leader of the group, he laughed every time I screamed as if he were watching a sporting event. My mother couldn't even bring herself to cry for me. It was as if she weren't there. The man doing the carving would whisper in my ear and apologize from time to time. The third one just watched in silence.

"Father came home early. He made a great deal of noise and the men ran off. He and William ran off after them. I lost consciousness then and woke up a few days later face down in my own bed. I couldn't get up and it hurt to move. Jasper was nursing me but an infection had set in, one that left scars on my back and neck. It pained Father to see them, so I started wear Mother's old dresses with the higher necklines to hide them and my hair down. He was happier then."

Bella shuffled in her place on the floor, tucking her feet in and arranging her skirt.

"Mother refused to say anything to anyone. Father thought she had gone simple from fear, but she was intoxicated. She drank herself to death, Edward. I wanted to protect Father as much as I could, so I refused to tell him about her involvement and why they came to our house. I made it out to be a crime of opportunity. He believed me because he wanted to. Jasper kept quiet too, even after Father terminated his employment. Peter and I helped him get a new position in Augusta. There is a loose rock in the wall and a space behind it. We use that for our communication. He finds me unusual ingredients and we exchange letters. Emmett sells my overstock for me. I don't keep any of the money, Emmett gives most of it to various charitable needs in the area, so I don't know how criminal my enterprise is. Father is living in his own world now, and I mean to keep him there for his own sake. It would gut him if he were to find out. I know I'm asking a lot of you, but would you help me keep the secret, please?"

I thought about it for a long time, long enough for Bella to looked very worried. I had no real trouble with the alcohol, especially if she wasn't profiting from it. It was such a hotly contested law by so many people, opinion was prohibition wouldn't last long and there were steps in place to have the amendment repealed.

The longer I took to answer her, the more agitated Bella became. She started rambling before I could form my response.

"See, this is why I was reluctant to tell you. I knew the idea of a tattooed bride would be abhorrent to you. I knew you would see me differently just when I was starting to fall for you. I told Father you'd never accept me and would leave as soon as you found out. He had to have his way though, he just had to have me married off. You were so squeaky clean and upstanding I knew the still would be a shock to you. I tried to hide it but you, you were the one who sought me out. I'm in the process of dismantling my operation anyway. I've perfected my recipes and accomplished what I wanted. I've arranged with Peter to have the equipment removed and Emmett is taking the last of the stock as soon as it's ready." She stood up and walked over to me. She crouched down so we were almost eye to eye.

"For their sakes, please do not call the authorities. It's not that they're innocent but it was my idea and my operation. We didn't harm anyone."

I had to stop her. She was getting angry and worked-up unnecessarily. I held two fingers up and put them on her lips. As soon as she calmed down a little, I replaced my fingers with my lips. I kissed her hard so she'd know I was with her. I kissed her, not just to stop her from speaking but to let her know I wanted to. That I wasn't running away screaming from her with everything I had learned so far. I wrapped one hand around the back of her neck and pulled her as close to me as I could. My thumb found one of her scars and I gentle stroked the raised skin. Slowly, I pulled back from the kiss and pressed my forehead to hers.

"Will you show me, Bella?" She had no better control on her breathing than I did as my question was winded and quiet; she was struggling, too.

"What do you want me to show you?" There was the barest hint of fear in her eyes but nothing like it had been before.

"Everything. Show me everything."

 **AN: I love you guys. That's all.**

 **I woke up this morning with no heat and window installers knocking at my door. The bright spot of the day, cold and noisy as it is, is knowing I get to post a new chapter and read you wonderful reactions.**

 **I owe many thanks to the magical Beachcomberlc, the colourful IpsitaC77 )Holi Baby), the cool JulieToo and the friendly Lunabev.**

 **So Bella is a distiller, Emmett does her bootlegging for her. Do you know what she is** **brewing? Her other big secret is a stick and poke tattoo with raised scarification. Not exactly 1925 fashion for the upper-middle class young lady. I have a few tattoos myself and I couldn't imagine the pain Bella would have gone through with needles and blades. At least, I signed up to get tattooed. I should think it would hurt much more having it forced upon you.**

 **Thank you so much for reading.**


	38. Chapter 38

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 38

A tear ran down the length of her cheek before she was able to speak. Just before it fell, she swiped at it.

"Would you like to try some gin, Edward?" She stood and held one hand out to me.

"I thought you said you made whisky?"

"No, Mother made whisky and not very well. I make gin, very good gin, if I may say so. After I recovered, I kicked Mother out of here. I let her keep her stash and I started my own operation. There was a lot of trial and error, but I came up with several recipes for some high quality product."

"How long have you been doing this?" I looked at all the different bottles. They were labelled with both numbers and with the names of the various components used to flavour.

"I started about two months after I recovered. I could see that Mother was always drunk, although she hid it from Father, and very well, too. I could also smell the whisky on her under her French perfume. I don't know how she hid it from Father, but then, maybe I knew better what to look for in her inebriation.

The first time Father left us alone, he had some unavoidable work out of town, I stormed in here and took possession of my playroom again. She didn't fight very hard; she couldn't face me, not really. Jasper had already left by this time, but he'd write me letters. When Mother first installed the still and started playing with it, Jasper wrote her an instruction booklet; I just followed that. Emmett became my guinea pig and around a year ago I started making something quite interesting."

I wanted to ask, but at the same time I didn't want to know. I screwed up my courage and questioned her; my least burning question first.

"Do you drink it yourself, Bella?" I'd like to know if my bride was a lush and a drunkard, not that it would change how I felt about her but it would change some circumstance. I'd get her the best help in the world if I could..

"No, not really. Enough to sample when checking for balance but after all this time I've come to despise gin. I suppose it's a good job I'm done with it." She ran her hand over several of the jars.

"If I hadn't found you, would you have told me, or just closed up shop on your own?"

"I was considering leaving Father and striking out on my own, but not until I was over twenty-one. There is a trust from Mother's family that matures when I'm of age. I thought I'd move very far away, if I could bear to, and buy a small house, perhaps get a job of some sort.

"I was already in the process of finding a buyer for my recipes when you arrived in town. Everyone knew about you and why you were moving here. Emmett joked that you were here for me, ultimately. He was my best link to the outside world. William Black is my father's link. He comes by a couple of times a week, usually when I'm in bed, but I can hear him and Father chatting into the night. Father started talking about you as my suitor long before Mother's funeral. When you played him that song, their song, it solidified his intentions."

She smiled at me, but it wasn't a happy smile.

"I was in negotiations, I hadn't slept more than a few hours at a time when you came along and, like the locking of the gate and the cloistering of the house, he gave me no say. His word was law and I was to follow to the letter. I thought if you found me to be very unpleasant you would refuse him. You were going to ruin everything I had worked for all this time. I thought Father told you about the markings as well, and you were only agreeing to the marriage out of pity or curiosity or something like that."

She chose one of the small jars and unscrewed the lid. She sniffed at it then passed it to me. I couldn't identify all the things that were floating at the top of the jar but the scent of juniper was the strongest. She handed me an odd tool, much like a tea strainer but flat. I held the mesh over the jar a took a sip. It was delightful, crisp and sweet but with a burn at the end that lingered at the back of my throat. She took the jar back and handed me another. This one was more herbal with rosemary and thyme sprigs. The third jar had more citrus tones and was my favourite of the three. I could've spent the entire evening tasting, but I feared getting drunk and missing out on hearing more of her story.

I read some of the labels and asked many questions. Jasper searched in the larger towns for unusual ingredients and he commissioned a few sailor friends to purchase supplies for him and Bella. Peter traded cuttings and seedlings with other groundskeepers in town.

She had herbs, seeds, pods and flowers I had never heard of in all my travels. I sniffed and sneezed my way through her stores of dried flavourings. I tasted some really horrible things; she had these tiny peppercorns that made my mouth go numb and equally small chili peppers that made my cry. However, when I tasted the gin with those ingredients, it was heavenly.

Bella was very nervous showing me everything, but I couldn't help but wonder at her skills and resourcefulness.

She then showed me the difference between a compound gin and a distilled one. She first reached over her head and started turning the copper disks on the ceiling. Each one was a stopper to a narrow copper tube that lead up through the ceiling to just under the grass above. It was a complex ventilation system. Rather than have one, very noticeable vent pipe, she had many hidden ones. She then fired up the still and showed me the gin basket the alcohol is distilled through to impart flavour. I preferred the compounded gin over the other, but all in all I preferred my uncle's whisky to Bella's gin.

It was well and truly night by the time we were ready to leave her workshop. She checked and rechecked that the fire under the still was extinguished. I waited above ground as she took care of the lanterns upon her insistence for she knew the room like the back of her hand.

We were both a bit giddy, not from the drink but from the shared experience. Bella served up large slices of her cake and we ate in the kitchen. The mood turned more serious and sombre as the last remnants of cake were consumed. I stopped her from washing up and held both her hands in mine as I asked the next most important question.

"Bella, would you show me your scars, please. I won't be disgusted or repulsed. There is nothing that could change how beautiful you are to me. I fell for you moments after meeting you."

I waited as she searched my eyes and face for any sign of deceit. She didn't find any, I guess, because she slowly nodded and reached for my hand. She led me upstairs to her bedroom. For the first time since our wedding I was going to be allowed into her room. I was scared beyond belief.

 **AN: Many guessed correctly, Bella makes gin.**

 **Many thanks to the beautiful Beachcomberlc. Many thanks to Lunabev and JulieToo for continued support. And a big hug to IpsitaC77.**

 **Thank you for reading. Your comments make me so happy.**


	39. Chapter 39

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 39

There were no remains of childhood in Bella's bedroom. No dolls or toys tucked into a corner and forgotten. As everything else in Bella's life, the room was meticulously tidy and arranged. Her bed was larger than I had expected from a lone female. I had, when I pictured her room, envisioned a small bed, almost a child's bed, but there was more than enough space for two people in Bella's bed. Her coverlet was white with pink and green patches and there was a pale blue knit blanket folded at the end. There was a large wooden wardrobe and matching chest of drawers. An aged rocking chair sat by one window and a vanity without a mirror by the other. At her bedside was a pile of very thick books and a framed picture of her mother in a wedding dress.

I finished my perusal of the room and was about to turn to ask Bella why she kept a picture of the mother who hurt her so, when I saw that she was unbuttoning her dress. I was struck dumb at the sight. The curtains were open, so I could see well by the moonlight but Bella, after she had removed her dress and gently placed it on the bed, went to the bedside table and lit the lamp. In her slip, she walked over to the vanity and lit the lamp there as well. The room was glowing with faint yellow light. She drew the curtains and turned to face me. In a very quiet voice, she asked me to sit in the rocking chair. I walked very slowly as not to frighten her further. She moved the lamp on the vanity to the closest edge near the rocking chair and stood with her back to me. She reached one hand behind her neck and moved the curtain of her hair so that it lay over her shoulder. I could see part of the tattoo as it wound from her neck just under her ear and down her back. From the way she had described it, I was expecting blotches and scratches much like a child would paint. I expected something very abstract and violent much like some modern art one would see in galleries and question the sanity of the artist. I was shocked to find a vine of leaves winding down Bella's back. It was crude and coarse with large raised pink spaces in between black lines, but overall it was nowhere near as ugly as I thought it would be.

Bella slowly pushed one strap of her slip off her shoulder and drew her arm through the hole. Then she repeated the action with the other strap and pushed to bodice of the slip down to her waist. The tattoo continued down her back, going from one shoulder down to the opposite hip in a capital L shape, almost. Although, it was difficult to see which direction the tattoo took as the view was blocked by the wide bandage Bella used to bind her chest. I sat there, dumbfounded, as I looked at her back. The contrast of the black vine and the raised pink scars on her ivory skin was very striking.

She stood there for a while with her hands at her sides clenched into fists. I thought she would reach for a robe or pull her chemise back up but instead Bella started to unwind the bandage around her.

"You don't have to do that." I stammered at her. I desperately wanted to see the rest of her markings but I had already imposed on her too much. She had to have been terrified, disrobing in front of me, baring her soul as well as her person to a man she wasn't quite comfortable with just yet.

"I may as well show you now. If you had known before Father made you marry me, it might have changed your mind." Her voice was trembling ever so softly and I could see her shoulders shake. This was a turning point. She didn't feel I could accept her with a tattoo and she was afraid I would run screaming from the room. We can laugh at her mistaken fears now, but then, she was petrified. And I was an ass who did little to allay those fears much earlier than I did. I should had spoken long before, perhaps even before entering her bedroom and the start of her erotic display. I was caught up in the thrill of it all, and over the years since, I have apologized.

It was an eternity, watching her unwind the white gauze from around her ribs. However, once the whole tattoo was revealed, it took less than a second for me to be on my feet and standing directly behind her. I have to admit what a boor I was, how rude and uncouth, for I let one finger trail down the inky black line without first asking permission to touch her. Bella flinched away from my touch, who wouldn't, but stood her ground. She crossed her arms over her breasts and raised her chin in defiance. She was readying herself for my reaction. What she expected never happened, for I found the marks on her back, despite the torturous way they were applied and their circumstances, to be the most sensual and alluring thing I had ever seen.

She flinched again when I stepped even closer to her, almost pressing against her and bent down to kiss the beginning of the vine.

"It's beautiful Bella. You are beautiful with or without it."

"Really? You think so?" All traces of defiance were gone, in place was a soft pleading.

"I do, truly." I reassured her by running my hand over to her shoulder and squeezing gently. She whirled around and flung her arms around my neck. It did not pass my notice that there was a pair of unclothed breasts pressed against my chest. Nor did it pass the knowledge of my proud soldier.

 **AN: I wish I could post pictures here so you could see a few of the vine tattoos I found similar to Bella's. Alas and alack.**

 **Thank you for reading.**

 **Thank you most to my ever lovely Beachcomberlc, IpsitaC77, JulieToo and Lunabev. Wonderful women of many talents.**


	40. Chapter 40

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 40

I tried very diligently to keep my growing excitement from pressing against Bella's stomach. She pulled back a bit from her embrace to look me in the eye.

"For the longest time, I couldn't bring myself to look at it. First due to the pain and infection, then after due to my own anger. The man who did it tried to be kind, sort of; he'd done this kind of thing before as a sailor but never one of this size and never as a punishment or on a girl. He was ordered to do something big and he chose the vine for size. His gang leader would check on the progress from time to time saying things like, 'make her bleed', or 'stick her harder'. He was disgusting and he seemed to enjoy my pain. He'd wake my Mother and force her to watch, not that she seemed to care. He was the one who rubbed ash and ink into some of the wounds. The one who did most of it, he used the needles, but the leader had a knife; I think that is where the leaves come from, the knife would slash and the needles would make a shape out of them. Or rather the men behind the implements would shape them.

I was surprised to see an actual design by the time I was able to look. Knowing that you aren't disgusted by it is a relief, to be sure. I'm sorry I took so long to trust you with these secrets, Edward. Forgive me?"

I took a few moments for my voice to return. I was still fixated on her naked chest and hoping for a look before she came to her senses and redressed.

"There is nothing to forgive, Bella. I would wait years for you if I had to. From the moment I saw you, I wanted nothing but to be at your side. When I first heard you speak I knew that was it, I was yours and yours alone. If your father hadn't offered me a clerkship I would have found another way. I would have scaled the wall and invented a reason to be near you. If it takes years to learn all your secrets well, then I'll be enthralled for years. For you, I am a patient man."

She made an odd noise akin to a growl but much more civilized and genteel before she kissed me with an ardour I hadn't yet felt from her. She was receptive to my kisses and participated but this time she took the initiative, almost knocking me over. My hand splayed out across her back and I could feel some of the scars under my fingers. I bought my other hand up and cupped the back of her head losing myself in the heavy silk of her hair.

Bella's hands were still at my neck and I could feel her fingers work themselves into my hair. She dropped one hand down and ran her fingers along the closure of my shirt and stroked my chest. I have no idea which one of us started walking or if we floated on air, but we soon found ourselves at the side of her bed. Together we fell in each other's arms and continued our embrace.

Very quickly, I found myself pinned to the bed with Bella sitting astride my hips. It was a deliciously torturous position, for I wanted to move against her so desperately, but she gave me no room to manoeuvre. She sat upright and stared down at me. Her hair hid the view of her bare breasts from me and as much as I wanted to unveil them, I waited for her invitation. You may think me a stupid man, but after the horrendous way she had been treated by the hands of strangers, I felt she didn't deserve manhandling by her husband. No matter how eager said husband was to get his hands on his lovely bride.

It was a monumental task, but I kept my eyes on hers as she removed first my tie and then opened every button on my shirt. She bent down to kiss me as she pushed the shirt off my chest. Although it was a warm day, I wore a sleeveless undershirt. Bella first traced the edges of the garment before she pulled it free of my trousers. I moved just enough to accommodate her, pulling my arms out of my sleeves and taking the undershirt and flinging it off the bed. I didn't even try to stifle a moan when she ran her hands over my chest.

Her eyes met mine and there was a faint sheen of tears in hers. She wiped them away with the back of her hand before whispering to me.

"The men and my mother both told me over and over that no one would want me now that I was tattooed. I would never be a wife, and any good man would avoid me. Even the man who marked me did not find me attractive in any way. But, that's not true is it? I can feel that it's not true and you have no idea how pleased I am." She swivelled her hips against mine to emphasize her point. I reached up with one hand behind her neck and pulled her down to me.

"I want you, Bella. If you want me too, that is all that matters." I carefully rolled us over and hovered above her. Her hair fell to the side and I was granted a look at her lovely breasts for the first time. I couldn't have stopped my hand from grasping hold of one if I tried. Bella didn't stop me as I cupped her supple flesh. They were fuller than I had imagined, although it was difficult to judge due to her binding. She ran her fingers over my nipples at the same time. It was such a glorious feeling, having her under me for the first time, being allowed to touch, to stroke and fondle that which was kept solely for our pleasure.

Words cannot express the joy I found in my bride that night. No, that is a lie. Vulgar, coarse, and common words could express, but not using those, I could not put words to my happiness, my outright elation and gratification. I could, as some gentlemen are wont to do, tell you about the rubbing of skin against skin, about the feel and rush of heat. I could try to explain the euphoria I felt and what I hoped Bella felt. I could tell you the number of beads of sweat that clung to her brow after she reached her first breathless completion. I could try to explain the taste of her skin, the sound of moans and the very colourful expletive she used before crying my name in praise. I could also, under duress and perhaps an alcoholic haze, tell you just how her round, smooth bottom felt in my hands or the first feel of her most intimate feminine parts and the taste thereof. I could tell you of our second and third time of that evening and how the repeated actions led us to a state beyond comprehension. I could mention how each successive time making love to my bride lasted longer and longer; prolonging our pleasure to dizzying heights. I could tell you all of these things in an effort to inform you of my sexual prowess in satisfying my bride but as a well-born educated gentleman, I will refrain.

Suffice to say, our marriage was most successfully consummated that night. Three times. And it was marvellous.

 **AN: I know, I know, not smutty enough but that's the way I write 'em. More suggestive than descriptive. Planteblue writes great smut, Bornonhalloween, Edward's Eternal, OGeeFanasty, Drotuno; great lemon writers. Hopesparkles for period smut. All have gorgeous stories with much juicier lemons. And there are so many other writers I've neglected. I don't mind if you get your lemony loving else where, in fact I encourage it. Just come back to me when you're satisfied and we'll continue with this mystery/romance.**

 **I thank JulieToo for her patience, Lunabev for kindness, IpsitaC77 for joy and Beachcomberlc for all of the above and everything else.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	41. Chapter 41

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 41

I woke the next morning, sadly alone in the bed, but with a faint tingling in my groin. Muscle groups I had never used in conjunction with another pained ever so slightly and served as a completely unnecessary memory of the last nights events. Unnecessary, because I would never, to my dying day forget the events of the last night. My hair may turn grey and fall out, my hearing and eyesight may fail but I will take with me to the grave the feel of the first time I made love to my bride with a broad toothless grin. I didn't need twinging muscles in my backside and abdomen to remind me.

I wandered the house, stopping at the lavatory for a quick wash, and searched for my bride. I eventually found Bella in the dining room. She had a pot of coffee and a tray of breakfast foods in front of her.

"I was sneaking a restorative cup of coffee before joining you in bed, Husband. I thought you might need a bit more time to recuperate, so I thought I'd let you sleep a bit longer. You know, regain your strength and all." She peered at me over the rim of her coffee mug with wide ingenue eyes that could rival Lillian Gish herself, complete with fluttering lashes. "I was on my way back to rouse you soon."

The sight of her, sitting there looking both well-ravaged and completely innocent turned me suddenly randy. When Bella greeted me with a smile and began to stand to serve me breakfast, I rushed over to stand in front of her. I flung aside the chair that was next to the one she had been occupying, grabbed her by the waist and plunked her up on the table; all the while kissing her in a way I felt was most passionate, perhaps a bit sloppy but loving. I leant over her and slid one hand under her head to cushion while the other took to opening her blouse. I managed to wrestle one perfect pink breast from its cloth prison and pay it a great deal of attention with both my fingers and my mouth. When I determined my bride was fully aroused, I gathered her skirts up and carefully removed her under-drawers. After freeing myself I made quick work of entering my bride and defiling the dining room table as she clamped her legs around my waist. By now I had learned not only what pleased me, but how to tell if Bella was as pleased as I was. Her sighs and moan, her whimpers and cries, the way her head thrashed about just before red blotches bloomed on her chest and neck. Finally, the way she felt against me and the fact that she bit my shoulder told me I had satisfied my beloved this time.

After my senses returned to me and there were no longer bright flashes of light in my eyes, I tenderly kissed Bella on the cheek and spoke.

"Good morning. Is that coffee?" My attempt at nonchalance was shattered by the fact I couldn't breathe properly just yet. I might have pulled it off if I hadn't been panting like a dog.

She did look at me as if I were insane before a peal of laughter escaped her. I took that as the perfect moment to remove my spent cock from her and to redress. Bella sat up and arranged her own clothing to its proper place. It was a shame, really, for her to have to cover up and I instantly missed the sight. I could happily spend my life with her naked continuously.

Breakfast was full of laughter and joy. Bella was relieved that the stiff-collared nature I had exuded previously waned, leaving a relaxed, contented, easy man. Part of the reason she hated me so in the beginning was she felt I was too tightly wound and would therefore not accept her for the person she was. Charles had painted a picture of a staid, uptight former soldier now legal clerk who would look after and protect her. Bella very obviously did not need looking after nor did she need a warden to protect her. She thought I would endeavour to stifle her personality, make her into a wife and take from her the freedoms she had secretly carved out for herself. She assumed a man as she thought I was would never accept a still and gin-producing bride. Bella had been sure that her tattoo would displease me and I would leave her for having it. A ridiculous notion even if she had chosen to mark her own skin and not had it forced upon her. She pictured being tolerated by her husband but never loved or two of us had jumped to so many conclusions in regards to each other it was laughable.

We spent a lazy weekend in each other's arms, talking, making love and learning. We slept a great deal, ate ravenously and enjoyed ourselves. I helped her pack a shipment of gin for Emmett to sell before tasting a few different batches. My appreciation of Bella's talents grew with each sample. My head did not have the same appreciation the next morning.

There was no set date for Charles' return, so after a few days of slothful behaviour we reverted to custom. We dressed completely and ate our meals at the table rather than in bed or dashed in the kitchen standing at the counter. I would dearly miss those honeymoon days in the next few days after Charles' return.

My faith in the law would be severely tested as would our fledgling romance and my faith in the Honourable Justice Swan. Now that I had solved the mystery that was Isabella Swan and the house at the end of Blackberry Lane, a new and more serious mystery arrived. One that almost ended in death.

 **AN: I, shouldbecleaning, promise to never, ever fret over how a scene may be received by the readers of this story. You are all rock stars of the highest calibre and I adore all of you. I will answer your reviews as soon as I can, but just know how much it means to me. I am your number one fan, and not in that creepy Annie Wilkes kind of way.**

 **I have oodles and oodles of love and respect for Beachcomberlc, who helps shape my words and ideas. Many many thanks to her, IpsitaC77, Lunabev and JulieToo.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	42. Chapter 42

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 42

A few days that could have been spent rutting with Bella were wasted because we didn't have an estimated time of arrival for Charles from his fishing trip. Four very long days I could have been ogling her lush, naked figure. Four days I had to wear a suit and tie rather than a large grin and erection. I pleaded my case like a seasoned lawyer but Bella refused to allow all of our civilities to diminish. I was allowed to move all of my belongings and clothing over to her room. As a conciliation she did allow for the christening of several rooms of the house, kitchen included. Out of respect, we stayed chaste in her father's study and bedroom.

I made great headway into the huge pile of papers Charles had left for me. I wrote case summaries until my hand cramped and my vision blurred. I was able to accomplish more work without Charles in four days than I would have be allowed in twelve with him. It helped not having him there as a distraction, although I could have made use of his expertise on occasion. Towards the end of the week I was exhausted but happy. Peter had brought over a note from Aunt Esme inviting Bella for the day. I was a bit miffed at not being invited, seeing as I was her only nephew, but I was thrilled for Bella to have an outing. I took the afternoon off, drove her to Esme's and spent my time on my own. I was due for a haircut and shave as well as wanting to buy a few things for Bella. That was my afternoon plan. I first had to tackle a few hours of work.

Just an hour into my day, I came across a large envelope addressed to me in Charles' hand. Upon opening, I saw several different documents inside. A will, a deed, and several numbered and addressed letters. I felt an odd sense of foreboding and a sliver of fear crawled down my back. I looked at the will and deed first. Legal papers I could stomach. Those I understood. The personal numbered letters were the ones that frightened me.

The will was standard. I was named as principal to receive his holdings and titles, the house and outbuildings as further outlined in the deed. A substantial trust was set up for Bella to do with as she pleased. Charles phrased the trust in just that way; it was solely for Bella's use and dissemination. I have to say I was surprised at the size of the trust. With the house in such disrepair and the fact that I hadn't seen Charles spend a dime in the time I had known him, I had jumped to the conclusion he was less than wealthy.

I was given rights over his legal library and office as well as a much smaller amount to tide me over until my own legal practice took hold. An honorarium was made in the name of William Black or his direct heir, a son named Jacob. There were no other mentions, just property to me, most of the money to Bella and a gift to William or Jacob. It would be enough for William to retire or a nest egg for his son. Bella had mentioned a trust from her grandfather's estate as well, and if it were of comparable size then she would rival me for personal wealth. Although she had said it was enough for her to move, purchase a small house and live frugally, she had mentioned needing a job of sorts.

I laid out all the papers in front of me after clearing my desk of current work. Charles had made plans prior to going fishing which, to me, meant that he may not ever return. The answers lay in the unopened envelopes and I only had to read the first one to find out. I struggled. The bubble in which Bella and I live was so very fragile, it would take a breath to break it. Her life to this date had been so unsavoury, a mother who could not love and a father who did not notice. Tortured at the hands of strangers when one word could have saved her. Given in marriage to a man she didn't know turned out to be a blessing, if I may say, but the situation could have been hell for her. All of this at the tender age of twenty. Reading the letter from her father could be the nail that closed her coffin, the very final straw that could break her and I wanted to protect her for as long as I could.

So help me, I ignored the letters. For now, at least. I put them aside and finished a few other things that were pressing. I tidied myself and headed into town. A good three quarters of my brain remained at the house with Charles. The last quarter was on purchasing something pretty for Bella. Once that was accomplished, I could direct my attention to personal grooming.

The letters were shouting in my brain as I sought out and found a lovely cameo for Bella. It was classically styled on a pale green background and depicted a young goddess holding a wineglass aloft while two cherubs danced around her with jugs. It was trimmed in gold and could be worn as a brooch or a pendant. The store in which I found the jewellery carried several different breadths of velvet, silk and satin ribbon. I purchased a variety. I chose the cameo as a wedding gift. For a birthday present, I chose a choker of pearls with a pale sapphire and diamond pendant. It was outlandish and opulent, but I was taken by the sight of it and the way I imagined it would look against her neck. I also thought the choker style might hide the scar a bit, not that it bothered me, but I know she hated the reminder.

 **AN: Thank you for reading.**

 **Beachcomberlc is a wonderful Beta/Editor/Friend and I'd be nothing without her. IpsitaC77 is a treat in my life. JulieToo is lovely, kind and constant. And Lunabev keeps entertaining me with European recipes that all seem to involve cheese, potatoes and bacon.**


	43. Chapter 43

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 43

My trip to the barber was a practice in patience and a very illuminating experience as well. I waited for a chair for a long time and pretended not to listen to the conversation flowing around me. It was very superficial chatter, I think in part due to my being in the room. The regular patrons of the shop kept glancing at me and it was making me uncomfortable. It wasn't until it was my turn at a chair and I introduced myself to the head barber, Stefan, that the locals relaxed around me. At first the conversation was about Chicago, sports, Uncle Carlisle and how much Aunt Esme is esteemed by the town. There was a lengthy and palpable silence when I mentioned I married Isabella Swan. The older of the gentlemen in the room rose to shake my hand and congratulate me both on my marriage and on my choice of bride. Those who were fathers or grandfathers expressed a worry for the young Miss Swan. When she abruptly withdrew from their notice, there was a great deal of concern for her, although not enough concern to go to the Swan house and inquire. Some had gotten word from Jasper that while all was well, the Swans were not up for visitors to the home.

There was no love lost for Mrs. Swan. She had been barely tolerated in town by all levels of society since her own childhood, but Bella had been a favoured child by everyone. It was my guess this was some of the gossip my uncle alluded to when we were at his home for lunch. Why he couldn't tell me this on the spot still irked me. He had been so dismissive of Bella's situation, not that he really knew anything about it, and so cavalier about the gossip that could have potentially damaged Bella further. I had forgiven him, within hours of my first blush of anger towards him, but there was a minor flare-up as I sat in the barber's chair.

Once Stefan was finished with my haircut and I was reclining with a hot towel on my face in preparation for a shave, the conversation turned to local events. Just yesterday there had been another two bodies found, both hung and dropped from a bridge but weeks apart, bringing the total of local murders to three. It was a huge number for the county and people were starting to be afraid.

There was much speculation about the dead men found, for some or one of them may have been the previously escaped prisoners who were embroiled in the case of a jailer accused of letting them free. I remembered the case as one of Charles' that he'd had me review. The decision was difficult for him. He'd spent a great deal of time working the case, even with my summary work. He muttered and wrote, only to rip the papers to shreds before restarting his work. I was able to complete several cases in the time it took him to conclude that one. He did not let me know his final judgement in that case, as he usually did to further my education. I didn't think it too odd at the time but, now, in hindsight I guess it was.

The last body found was that of the nephew of the mayor's wife. He had been dead for some time, a few weeks perhaps, and identification was difficult. He was said to be an odd boy, disgracing his family and plying a trade in Boston that was both unsavoury and borderline criminal. His parents had means and great wealth but he was no longer considered a member of their family. In his youth he had taken to the sea but was terminated dishonourably. It was said that he now worked at the dockyards tattooing drunken sailors and prostitutes.

I listened even more closely after that revelation, but pretended to have marginal interest. I asked what he had done to shame his family so that they would disown him. Vladimir, the man yielding a straight razor pressed to my neck, fixed me with a sharp look through the mirror and pronounced the fallen man to be a homosexual. A peter-eater, was his exact term. It was one I hadn't heard before. After that, I was lost in my own thoughts until my shave was over. I paid and tipped both men before thanking them.

I drove home slowly while thinking over what I had learned. I had to decide whether to tell Bella about everything or to keep her in the dark. I wasn't sure if I wanted her to be afraid of the news and what seemed to going on around the county. If there was a killer about she might be frightened and worry about another break-in. I wondered if I should purchase more chain and lock the back gate and the side entrance as well to help calm her fears. But then how would Charles get back onto the property if I completely barred all entrances?

I started to wonder about Charles and his whereabouts. He had been so eager to show me a map of where he was going, mentioning the area over and over as if to make me memorized the details. He had said if while he was away should someone inquire as to his movements I was to claim he was home, ill and bedridden. There was too much information running through my mind and I was in desperate need of some organization before facing Bella. I suspected after this fishing trip of Charles', I would have to either confront him or pretend to be ignorant of what I had heard this afternoon and the tickle of suspicion that was running through my brain. There were strange, incomprehensible thoughts I was using every effort to smother for no good would come out of them. In fact if I allowed these thoughts to fully form it would be the end, of my marriage, my world and possibly my life. I was struggling most with my sense of justice. I didn't know which path to choose and what would be best for Bella.

If ever there was a time for a stiff drink of quality gin, this was it. I was so thankful I knew just where to get one or four.

 **AN: It had been a wish to have this story finished by today so I could end it as a birthday present to IpsitaC77 but I use too many words and I'm, yet again, unprepared. Oh well, Happy Birthday Ipsita.**

 **Beachcomberlc is my favourite Beta. JulieToo is kind and Lunabev makes me happy. Thank you to all of you.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	44. Chapter 44

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 44

I was sorely disappointed when I finally reached home. I didn't have time for a drink, nor did I have time to read the first of Charles' letters. I only had time enough to turn around and go fetch Bella from the clutches of Aunt Esme. I was greeted warmly by my aunt and even more so by my beautiful bride. The hours apart had ignited a fever between us, a fire that could only be extinguished by our coming together. I think we were polite enough to thank Aunt Esme for her kindness, but I'm not certain. I'm sure Bella did, most likely. I am certain I said hello, but after my greeting I saw Bella and lost the power of speech.

We didn't make it out of the driving garage before clothing was rent and we were most satisfied. As much as I loved Alice, I decided I needed a bigger car so I could enjoy my bride in the back seat rather than having her over the rear wheel fender and trunk once the spare tire was flung to the side. It was almost fully dark by the time we redressed and ran into the house. We foraged for something to eat that was quick and easy so we could resume our night upstairs in a nice comfortable bed.

I awoke with a start about an hour before dawn still blissful from our latest love making. I wasn't sure if a strange noise woke me or if it was something else. I listened intently to night noises before I remembered the presents I had purchased for Bella were still in the car's glovebox.

I had to dress quietly so as not to wake Bella. I had finally worn her out, poor dear and I knew she needed her sleep. Bella had introduced me to the pleasures of going to sleep naked and I was very, very happy with the idea. There is nothing better than waking up to a warm naked woman pressed up against me.

I tugged a pair of pyjama pants up to cover myself before venturing outside to retrieve Bella's gifts. I imagined her waking to find her neck adorned with pearls, sapphires and diamonds. I further imagined all the lovely ways she would find to thank me, each more erotic than the other until I was of half a mind to forego my task and return to bed and the pleasure therein.

My smarter head prevailed and I stepped out into the fall night feeling oddly disappointed in myself. I hadn't walked around with my tickler (Bella's phrase, not mine) up and proud since I was a small child. While the chill in the air managed to aid the situation, hearing someone in the driving shed took care of the rest. I was instantly flaccid and alert.

I crept up as softly as I could. The lack of footwear, which I cursed when I first stepped on the dew wet grass, was a benefit. The fine gravel of the drive barely made a sound as I neared the shed. I grabbed the first thing I could find as a weapon, a short length of firewood, and shouted. I'm not sure who ended up more surprised, me or him.

The man rummaging around in the shed was old, wrinkled but tall and strong looking. He wore an old cap, overalls, a thick flannel shirt and battered boots. The thick blond beard on his face did nothing to hide the thick scars that ruined his skin. He had been looking through some crates stashed in the recesses of the shed. When I yelled, he just turned his head to look at me. It seemed as though nothing would or could startle him. Instead of running away or trying to fight me, he stared at me until I spoke.

"Who are you? What are you doing here? What do you want?" The less he would answer the more I questioned, sounding like a idiot. Very deliberately, he first lowered his hands from the edge of the crate he was searching. Then, very slowly, like a slip of film from one of those old magic lantern projector shows, he turned his body, then his hips, then his legs, one at a time until he was facing me before he spoke.

"You Edward? Isabella's Edward?" His voice was quite gentle in contrast to his rough look.

Dumbfounded, I nodded.

"Jasper." It was all he said. Then he started to turn back to where he was, part by part, in reverse of before.

"I'm looking for something to help comfort our girl. I have bad news and I'm looking to soften the blow. I know it's here somewhere. Drop your stick and help me. You can always beat me later, I don't move very fast anyway as you've seen." He spoke quietly but firmly. I jumped to and dropped the piece of wood I was holding.

"There is an ugly little doll, real unfortunate looking. She used to carry that thing with her everywhere. My wife knit some clothes for it and taught Bella to sew by making outfits for the damn thing. She's wont to hold it again for bad news. Her mother made her throw it away when she deemed Bella too old for dolls but I stashed it away for her. Thought she might like it for her kids some day." He prattled on as he searched. "You look in the bottom ones, I bend too much for work to do it now."

I looked through a couple of crates but found nothing. I was about to find a new one to search when Jasper let out a hoot. In his hand was a grubby little wooden doll about five inches high. The paint on its face was worn and chipped. Its dress was once white but now faded a sickly yellow with brown splotches. A rat or other small rodent had chewed the hem of the dress leaving it ragged. Jasper plunked it in my hand and tucked the crate back into its shelf. He dusted his hands on his overall bib and straightened his cap.

"Come on, let's go wake her and get it over with." He strutted out of the shed with a sinuous movement I didn't think anyone would be capable of at his advanced years. It was like watching water stroll around as if it had legs. It was the complete opposite of the way he moved when I first encountered him. He had turned to face me in such a way I had wondered briefly if he were made of wood like some sort of marionette, but without the strings. Now he was striding with such grace and fluidity I felt awkward and wizened just watching him.

I remembered why I came out here in the first place and called to him to stop for a moment as I retrieved my presents for Bella.

I quickly caught up with him.

"You said you didn't move fast." I was slightly winded having to catch up to him and match his stride.

"I lied. You were holding a stick and planning to attack me. I made you drop the stick and lower your guard. Are you always such a patsy?" He held the door for me and made me question my masculinity all in one fell swoop, further solidifying my feeling this was going to be an awful day.

 **AN: I did a little tinkering with this after Beachcomberlc waved her magic red pen, so blame me if there are errors. I would be lost without my Beachy (I haven't asked permission to call her that but it's what I say in my head, dangerous place that it is). I'd be lost without IpsitaC77, JulieToo and Lunabev as well.**

 **I'd not be a storyteller without a reader, so thank you for reading.**


	45. Chapter 45

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 45

Properly dressed and groomed, Bella and I walked into the kitchen to find Jasper finishing the coffee by adding a healthy slug of an amber liquid from a small silver flask. Bella rushed over to him and held him to her in a fierce embrace. He tilted his head and laid his cheek on the top of her head, sighing with a smile on his face as if having her in his arms was a balm to soothe his soul. After hearing some of their shared history, I was fairly certain they were medicine to each other; the kind that can't be bought or manufactured.

Jasper broke the embrace and kissed Bella on the forehead before pointing her to the coffee he'd prepared. We bypassed the dining room to gather in the parlour.

"Something bad has happened to Father, hasn't it? You wouldn't come here otherwise." Bella surprised Jasper as he was mid-sip of his hot drink. He spluttered and gulped before answering.

"You were always too smart by half, my girl. I could never get anything by you. No, I would never have come here if it weren't important. Parts of Billy Black's boat washed up down shore the other day. I know Justice Swan usually goes with him. Port Authority is looking into it but I recognized the name of the boat and made my way here as quickly as I could."

"What's the name of Mr. Black's boat?" I blurted without thinking. This was by no means an important question and by far the dumbest thing I could have said under the circumstances. Here Bella's father may have met with a horrific accident, possibly death and I'm asking for the name of the boat. I smacked my hand to my forehead and then started to apologise to Bella.

"He named it Lupa. He always had a fascination with wolves that bordered on obsession." Bella said with a dismissive wave of her hand, more toward the apology that just died on my lips than the oddities of her father's friend.

"There's a search underway and the ocean has been calm, so if they met with an accident they may have survived. You know he kept that little dory strapped to the stern. They could be stranded just out of visual range. You can't give up hope, not yet." Jasper consoled her, patting her hand and encouraging her to drink her enhanced coffee. Whatever it was he poured, whichever alcohol, it brought a lovely pink bloom to her cheeks.

Bella was remarkably calm with such horrendous news but I could see the worry in her eyes.

"Now, Billy is a seasoned sailor and he handles that boat like an admiral, you know this. Justice Swan is no novice sailor himself. There's no point borrowing sorrow until we know more for sure." He handed her the ancient doll and squeezed her shoulder.

Bella nodded, taking Jasper's advice, took a deep breath and fiddled with the doll for a long time before speaking again.

"Which part washed ashore?" Her voice was quiet but did not warble or falter. She was a strong woman, my bride, and every successive hour I knew her my love for her grew.

"A good piece of port side gunwale with her name painted on it. Not necessarily enough to scuttle them completely but a worrisome size nonetheless. I need to start back but if I hear more, either way, I'll be back as soon as my feet will allow." He leant over to give Bella a kiss on the cheek when she stopped him.

"You walked here? Oh Jasper, that must have taken ages. Surely you'll rest first? Let me make you some food and pack you some supplies." She got up, rushing to the kitchen. Jasper and I trailed after her.

"If I don't head back soon, I might lose my position. I hitched a ride for part of the walk, it wasn't that bad. I'm still a spry old fighter, you needn't fuss over me. Not with all that's doing in your life. I appreciate it, but you fret over you, Bella, not me. I can catch a bit of sleep in the woods nearer to Searsport on my way back. And there is a fine chance of another ride with all those automobiles on the road these days." I heard his stomach rumble, so I knew he was lying to her, albeit kindly.

"My employer gave me the whole day but I don't want to waste daylight by sleeping. I'd rather be back by sundown."

Bella ignored him and gathered an armful of ingredients before stoking the range to cook. She made him the fastest breakfast she could and prepared a large stack of sandwiches for his journey. It wasn't until I had finished my own breakfast that the thought occurred to me.

"Do you know how to drive, Jasper?" As I asked, Bella turned to me with a broad smile.

"I've had a lesson or two in a truck for work." He looked at me with a bit of a scowl.

"Why don't you take my car? We won't be needing it, not until we hear about Charles. You could rest now and drive back in a few hours." His expression changed with my offer. His scowl turned to a toothy grin and he thanked me.

"Come, I'll introduce you to Alice while Bella finishes your picnic." I winked at Bella and started back to the shed. Jasper followed after a few moments and we took Alice around the yard in practise. Jasper took to driving very well, as if he'd always been doing it, and Alice purred under his control. He asked if he could take her up and down the lane alone so I went back into the house to find my girl. Bella was standing at the sink, crying. I rushed over to her and took her in my arms. I listened as she cried herself out, letting her have all the time she needed. She had already lost one parent, granted a horrible, cruel, and useless one. Now she was facing the loss of the other.

 **AN: Beachcomberlc is my wonderful story editor. IpsitaC77 made my lovely banner. JulieToo patiently waits for me to re-start Uncredited. LunaBev makes me smile on facebook. But I would be lost without a reader, so thank you for reading.**


	46. Chapter 46

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 46

Jasper returned from his quick drive and went to his old quarters for a nap. We planned his departure for after lunch, giving him a few hours to rest and recuperate. The man amazed me; I don't think I could have walked that many miles in the dead of night, hour upon hour. I was more than happy to lend him Alice. Although I loved her, I knew I needed a larger vehicle now that I was a married man. I had a strong feeling Bella would be grateful for my helping her friend and he deserved a reward for being so good to her for her whole life.

Bella cooked the morning away and I worked hard at annoying her in an effort not to help her forget about her father, but to ease the tension. I think it worked, she did giggle from time to time and I was allowed to stay and have little tastes of everything she prepared. The mood was sombre but we were able to work within our fear. I knew I still had unread communication from Charles but I didn't want to leave Bella's side, nor did I want her there when I read them. To be perfectly honest, I didn't want to read them at all. In reading the letters I may receive answers to questions best left unasked. Those tiny seeds of doubt I had been suppressing might take shape and become full fledged reality. Seeds that had been planted the day before when I was at the barber's. Seeds I didn't want to admit I even attempted to entertain.

The police came soon after Jasper left us, massive picnic packed and tucked into the passenger seat. The officers were unable to tell us any more than Jasper had. They had a boat out searching first the Penobscot River and then down into the bay for any sign of them. With what seemed like hundreds of little islands in the area, a full search could take weeks. Both of the officers were calm and collected, not wanting to frighten Bella but also knowing the strength and tenacity of both Charles and William. They promised to update us as soon as they had some clues or answers. The officers were very kind and gentle with Bella, which I appreciated. She held her emotions well having purged them on my shoulder mere hours before. For the entire day I did not leave her side, except for intimate personal time.

I stayed out of Charles' office and as far from the temptation of the letters for the next day as well. Bella and I packed another shipment for Emmett, culling the illegal supply in the cellar by a quarter. We both decided that in the event of more police officers potentially arriving at the door, perhaps the lesser amount of alcohol would be more beneficial should it be found. Of course, having no unlawful stashes would be the best thing but dismantling the operation took time. Time and buyers. Emmett could only take so much at a time lest he be caught also. Bella had plans to spend a few hours bottling to make a gift for Peter as a thank you for all his help. I was more than happy to help with the endeavour, feeling that Peter would need all the spirits he could get having a very chatty Charlotte as his wife, but I didn't say that to Bella because I didn't think she'd approve. Moreover, I felt if I were to speak of any bride in that manner, of needing alcohol to deal with them, Bella would be hurt and I would be chastised.

All of these thoughts were sprinkled around the fear of what may have become of Charles and William Black. The worry was foremost in our minds but we didn't speak of it or speculate.

Our night was spent in each other's arms, soft and loving with gentle touches and sweet kisses. At the time, I could think of no better way to spend the night with my bride, my love, and I told her so.

A brief flash of sadness overtook her face as she opened her soul and told me her fears for her father and his friend. Bella was terrified for them, but refused to entertain the idea they may have perished at sea. She said she'd know in her heart if her father had passed. She felt he was still alive somewhere but lost. She worried what was to become of us. Us. Not her but the two of us together as a single unit. I just had to kiss her then for I knew she was mine forever. Her fears that I would turn tail and run from her scars, tattoos and history had been very successfully laid to rest.

I mentioned the will and deeds Charles had left for me. I told her of our family's wealth, meaning the two of us together but from my side. I told her we could move anywhere in the country and she could attend University three times over if that was what she really wanted. I mentioned a fleeting idea I had of maybe going back to school myself and pursuing something other than the law. I still loved the law and was intrigued by it but I found the constant paperwork dull. I enjoyed the research portion and the discussion of it. Perhaps being a legal professor would suit me more than being a practising lawyer. When I mentioned we could go together, her eyes lit up with a joy I hadn't seen before.

I purposely didn't mention the other letters. I resolve to read them in the morning when Bella was working underground. I had been weak for too long and it was time to screw my courage to the sticking place and be a man. A man worthy of the exceptional woman he has.

 **AN: No two year graduating license for Jasper, oh no, twenty minutes instruction and here, take my car. I love the name Penobscot, it reminds me of M*A*S*H.**

 **Many thanks to Beachcomberlc 'cause she's awesome. Also awesome are Lunabev, JulieToo, IpsitaC77 and you, dear reader.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	47. Chapter 47

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 47

Bella needed my help for a while after breakfast. She could move the demijohns by herself and I was her errand boy for a hour or so. Extra hands made for lighter work and we were able to chat while working. She blushed prettily when I complimented her dress. It still had a higher neckline but was more in keeping with the day's fashion. Better even, it was green and had a bow around her hips making her look taller than she really was. It was very slimming, with long straight lines and cut just below the knee. I boldly asked her why she decided to bind her chest; it was a question that irked me ever since I had gotten my hands on her lovely bosom.

"Mother made me wear tight undershirts for the longest time. She said time and time again that the size of my chest was unseemly, unladylike, unnatural and unbecoming. She lectured me, as if I had any control over the matter, saying men would be disgusted with me for having noticeable breasts. After months of hiding myself, near to the point of pain, I started to realize she was jealous because she was not as well endowed. I rebelled then, wearing looser undergarments but it was at times uncomfortable.

Then they carved up my back and I was forced into tight dressings to keep the wounds clean. By the time I had healed, Father was starting to act odd. He'd already forbidden us from leaving the house, claiming it wasn't safe for womenfolk to be out in town and he'd locked the gate, fired the staff and left his job. Every once in awhile he remarked or even outright complained about my dress and the way it looked. He was happiest if I looked like a much younger girl and part of that was a flatter chest. It's become a habit, really, and it does sort of go along with current fashion. More sleek and streamlined." Bella ran her hands down her sides to emphasize the cut of her dress. I watched, lost in dreamy thought, wishing there was no need for her to be dressed at all, at anytime. I wondered if we could move somewhere tropical and steamy so clothing was unnecessary. Even with her protective starched white apron covering everything, she was still a sight to behold and I was proud to be hers.

I quickly reached the end of my usefulness and was freed to do my own work in the house. Bella said she'd be up in a hour to start lunch so I reluctantly left her in her lair and climbed topside. After blinking in the weak fall sun for a few moments, I walked around to the front of the house. If I had gone through the kitchen, I would have filched a snack and caught Charles before he made his way out of the house.

As it was, I just missed him. However, I did encounter the mess he left behind when he rummaged through my desk looking for the letters he had given me. Of course I found this out a few minutes later, the reason he came back, but when I entered the office the only sign someone had been there was the disarray. Perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself.

I didn't know it was Charles who ransacked the office when I got there, but I could see that someone had been searching for something. I looked quickly through the papers on my desk and noticed the letters from Charles were missing from where I had unsuccessfully hidden them. Then I noticed the smell of burnt paper and looked in the grate to find charred bits of paper where there were only logs the night before. I heard no footsteps or noise in the house, so I ran outside through the kitchen to see a figure entering the shed at the gate where Emmett leaves the groceries for Bella.

I was better armed this time; having grabbed a long fireplace implement before leaving the office. I dashed over to the shed to confront the intruder. I was shocked to find it was Charles, not drowned but looking very dishevelled, rumpled and slightly crazed.

To be honest I wasn't sure which of us was more surprised to see the other. He let out a yell and dropped the length of rope he was holding. I raised the poker to strike but stopped myself from hitting him just in time.

"What the hell are you doing?" I shouted at him.

"Why are you here?" He asked at the same time.

He further surprised me by falling to the ground and covering his face with his hands. He started to weep like a small child; noisy sobs, stuttering breaths and shaking shoulders. I just stood there. I was far too shocked to comfort him and really, I had no idea how to for it seemed odd to contemplate embracing one's sobbing father-in-law who is back from a near drowning and possibly risen like Lazarus from the depths of the Penobscot Bay. I was so confused. So, I waited for him to collect himself.

Slowly his cries ended and when he finally stood, he was more or less together. He wiped his eyes and blew his nose.

"The car is gone. I thought you had left, maybe taken Isabella away for a while. You were supposed to. I told you to in the letter I left, but then I found them unopened." His voice still hitched with remnants of his crying jag, making him seem much less powerful than the highly esteemed legal figure I had known. Now, he seemed small and lost; defeated somehow. It was a horrible thing to witness.

I cleared my throat, forcing back the tickle of emotion that had been creeping up.

"Wait here, I'll go find Bella and let her know you're safe. The police have been by. There are people searching for you. We thought you met with an accident and were lost at sea. Bella will be so happy to know you survived." I turned to run back to Bella when he gripped my arm, forcing me to stay and yelling at me.

"No, you can't tell her, She mustn't know; no one can know. I wasn't supposed to survive."

 **AN: I am halfway through writing chapter 50 and I estimate there'll be between 52 and 55 chapters to this story. Just to let you know.**

 **Thank you Beachcomberlc for 24 hour beta services. I had no idea I would gain such a good friend when I asked for help. I didn't know I would ever have such kind support through storytelling as I have found in IpsitaC77, Lunabev and JulieToo.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	48. Chapter 48

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 48

We were interrupted by the rumble of Emmett's truck. Charles, still gripping my arm, dragged me from the small shed over to the empty driving garage. He hid himself in a corner, shadowed and secure, and proceeded to cry again. His sobs were much quieter as we heard Emmett exchange goods down the drive. I think it was the fear of being caught that caused him the tears this time.

I tried to be soothing. I tried to be patient. However, after a few moments I snapped.

"Charles, pull yourself together. What do you mean, you weren't supposed to survive?"

"Billy and I made a pact. We promised each other we would, as punishment for what we have done; to repay our sins. We tore the gunwale with the name off the side and left it to drift closer to shore so there would be proof of our deaths. Then, once we were further out we set the boat afire. When the engine exploded I was tossed overboard and knocked unconscious. The current must have taken me in, for when I awoke I was near shore, near enough to swim. I tried to drown but I couldn't. I was supposed to die asea. So I hid in the trees and made my way back here slowly, so as not to get caught by the search party. My fate is to die for my crimes in the same manner as I committed them, I guess. I came back here for the rope." He had a crazed look in his eye. It wasn't a dementia of age; no, it was the mania of a man pushed well past his breaking point. I had seen similar looks on the faces of soldiers as they were forced to return to the frontlines. Every shred of sanity had been taken from Charles. I wondered if I had ever known him sane or if he had carefully constructed a persona just for me and Bella.

I placated him as best I could, but he would have none of it.

"What crimes, Charles? Surely it can't be all that bad?" I had an inkling and a few outlandish suppositions as to Charles' criminal acts but I need him to allocute to them. I needed to hear it in his own words, clearly and succinctly.

"You can't be that stupid, Edward. You must have put two and two together by now." He stared at me expectantly, and I watch his face crumple as he realised I had no idea what he was talking about. I had suspicions that I did not want to entertain, but no fully formed theories. I tried hard not to let anything show on my face as he spoke.

"I chose you for a reason. Billy heard about you around town, Carlisle's nephew feeble from a terrible illness, returned soldier who never saw action, law student from a long line of lawyers; all these things made you perfect for Isabella and therefore, for me. You'd be physically weakened and therefore non-threatening to Isabella, you would follow orders and do what was expected of you with little questioning. I'm sorry to say it, but you were and to some extent still are a bit of a sheep. I needed a sheep. Isabella needed a lamb. A gentle, kind man who could bring her out of the angry, sad place she was in. I couldn't do it. I had no more life left in me since I killed the first of her attackers. Not enough to help her.

I hate the coward I've become towards Isabella. I ruined her just as much, if not more than either her mother or those vile men. I let it drag on for far too long. You were perfect to bring us out of it."

He kept talking, but I was very confused. He had just admitted to murder. I was certain I had heard that, but it was such a passing, throw-away part of his story I'd have glossed over it if I weren't hanging on his every word.

"I could have been forgiven for killing the first man, as he was on my property and had just participated in torturing my wife and daughter. However, after the second my plans really solidified and took a much more tangible form. I forced you to marry my daughter so she would have someone to care for her. Not that she ever really needed caring for, she has always been smarter, stronger and better than I. If she had been born a boy, I knew for a fact she would have become anything she wanted, up to and including President. I honestly didn't know how badly my wife treated her until it was far too late and my wife was dead. I didn't recognize my own failings until very recently. You won't fail her, will you? I can see that you love her, shit, a blind man could see that. She's much smarter than you. If you let her lead you, let her be the brains in the relationship you'll end up a very happy man. Not a stupid fool like me."

He glared at as if to burn the thought into my head. He hadn't told me anything I didn't already know about Bella, and I was perfectly content to follow her for the rest of her life and mine. Nothing would give me more pleasure, marital relations aside, than to bask in her glow until my dying day.

I let him continue without interruption, save for nodding my head in agreement.

"You're a good boy, Edward, a little dim but inherently good. That's why I knew you would be able to handle not only her past, her scars and tattoo, but her occupation and indelicate work. It's like you were served up on a platter for both of us." He patted me on the head much like one would a faithful hound and I wanted to complain, assert my strength of character and intelligence, but I hadn't heard all of his sordid story yet, so now was not the time.

 **AN: Charlie is just beginning to tell his tale. And it's a doozy.**

 **Every once in a while, perhaps, well to be honest it happens all the time, I get a correction from Beachcomberlc. I can picture her, almost hear her in a strong but gentle voice, saying 'Are you sure about that word? I don't think that word means what you think it means.' It makes me want to watch The Princess Bride again.**

 **Many thanks to JulieToo, Lunabev and IpsitaC77, treasures, the lot of them.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	49. Chapter 49

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 49

Charles' story was convoluted and rambling, jumping from one thread to another but I listened intently to the whole thing.

"I was so busy searching for the other two men who broke in, I didn't notice my wife drinking herself to death right under my nose. I didn't see what my anger at my own impotence was doing to my daughter. She was disappearing before my eyes, layer by layer. Or perhaps I didn't want to see, for that would have been a reminder of my failings as a husband, father and judge.

When I found the second man... when _we_ found him, for Billy loved Isabella as a daughter, we took our time with him. From him we found out the whole story. In all my years on the bench, the multitude of cases I've heard, this was the most painful tale ever, and not just because it happened to my daughter and wife. Although, to be honest, the fact it included them does add to the horror.

It was my fault, in the end. I left them alone far too much. I should have seen through the façade and known of the petty jealousy my wife held for my daughter. Renee always wanted the best of everything and I tried to give it to her. I stood up to her when she wanted to leave here, when she wanted to live in a big city and be a part of high society. That was really one of only a handful of times I refused her requests. I didn't know she took her resentment out on Isabella. I was so blind to it all. Isabella never complained; she never mentioned it or said anything against her mother. It never occurred to me that Renee would break the law and make whisky so I didn't know what was happening.

The prison guard accused of freeing prisoners...do you remember that case? One of the men he freed participated in that night. He was the first of the three to die. As soon as he was free from prison he wrote a statement implicating the guard. The other two who escaped with him are still at large. He took up with an old accomplice and together they recruited for the job of breaking in here.

I killed them all. Billy and I, we strung the first one up in the shed where you keep your car. Then a few weeks ago, Billy found the next one and we got a confession out of him that led to finding the last one. He was out on a boat but due to be back this weekend.

That was when I found out about the alcohol and my wife's involvement. It wasn't too hard to extrapolate the idea that Isabella may have taken over her mother's still. In hindsight, the pieces started to come together and I can only chastise myself for not noticing it sooner. Isabella's sudden nocturnal activities and secretive pursuits.

Now that we'd got them all and Isabella is safe, we knew we had to pay for what we'd done. Premeditated murder is a capital crime; Billy and I knew we were to pay with our own lives. That's why we set the boat to explode.

I don't want to give you their names. I've avoided it so far because they don't deserve names for being so cruel to innocent women. Once they are given names, they become people with mothers who might miss them not the cruel beasts that hurt my daughter. I suppose I have to, tell you their names otherwise the rest of this will be very confusing. I will piece the story together as best I know from the confession I extracted.

The leader of the three, the last one to die, heard some rumour of a whisky mill a society lady was running. His family had run moonshine further down south and he wanted to take the operation and stock to make some money. They searched around for a while before they found Renee. They waited until I was away and thought it would be simple. They thought they'd take what they wanted and be gone before daybreak. They couldn't find it.

I was shocked when I found out about the still. I honestly had no idea Renee was involved in something so illegal and unsavoury. I don't know why she traded our daughter's dignity for alcohol. I like to think that she was so terrorized by the men breaking in that she went catatonic and was unable to respond even as they carved Isabella's skin. That's the thought that has kept me from going truly mad. It can't be anything else in my mind. There is no way a mother could do that to her child.

Tell me you'll never let anything happen to Isabella. She's already had to pay a steep price once. She deserves much better for the rest of her life. Try to love her; it's so easy to love her. Promise me." He took hold of my shoulders and began to shake me. The only thing I could do was wrench away from him.

"I do love her and by some miracle she loves me back. We are a proper married couple, Charles. Don't fear for her. I'll take care of her for the rest of her life." I laid my hand on his arm to console him. He looked as though he would burst into tears again but managed to hold himself together.

Charles sought out two crates and upended them for us to sit. Then he continued as if his deranged pleas for his daughter never happened.

"When they could find no trace of the still, they broke into the house and grabbed Renee. As she refused to say anything, one of them, Felix, the tattooer, mentioned that there was a daughter in the house. So, they grabbed Isabella as well. They tried to use her, unsuccessfully for leverage. Striking either of the woman had no effect.

Alec, the leader of the gang wanted to harm Isabella as a way to get Renee to confess. His plan was much more diabolical than the one Felix suggested. Alec wanted to beat her and then, if they still did not have the location of the whisky, they would cut off her hair, then her fingers, toes, ears - whatever it took to get Renee to cooperate.

Felix did everything he could to try to help Isabella and he was genuinely contrite and apologetic. However, he still had to die for what he did to her, for his part. There was no question about his punishment when Billy and I found him.

The third man, I didn't know when I killed him first that he was against any kind of violence toward the women. I might have be able to forgive him had I known. He wasn't the driving force in what happened. Forgive me, but I enjoyed killing him. I regret it now and I wish I had only been able to kill the leader and the tattooer.

The head of the group, once Isabella was tied and tethered, made a series of cuts on her back with a knife. Just to see her bleed and make her scream. When Renee didn't react, Felix used his make-shift tattooing tools to try to make something pretty out of what Alec had done. He stressed that point, Felix, that he wanted to give Isabella something a little pretty for what she had to go through. He was always a queer boy."

 **AN: I did a significant amount of tinkering with this chapter after Beachcomberlc had gone through it with her thick red pen. Any mistakes are my own and not all that surprising seeing as I am a fallible human being.**

 **Beachcomberlc works very hard to correct my mistakes, getting paid solely in praise and admiration. Many thanks to JulieToo, IpsitaC77 and Lunabev.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	50. Chapter 50

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 50

Charles kept talking, unravelling his story of revenge and murder, sometimes getting tangled in the details. I had a colossal headache, a thousand questions and the fear that Bella would call me into the house for lunch at any moment. I would have to get my answers later. I stood up while he was mid-sentence and unceremoniously cut him off.

"What are you going to tell Bella?" He was horror-stricken at my question. He turned first red then all colour drained from his face, leaving him looking green about the edges.

"I should leave before she catches me. I'd rather her think I was dead than know I'm a killer." He tried to skirt past me before I stopped him.

"No, you are not going to do that to her. Think of her for once in your damned life, Charles. If she were to find out you were alive and hiding from her, despite what you have done, it would destroy her. You're the only parent she has left and the only one who ever cared a whit for her. Man up to what you have done and face her." I held on to his arm very tightly. There was no possible way I would let him go and allow him to hurt her further.

"You can tell her everything once I've gone, Edward. I had written everything in those letters, but I burned them when I saw them unopened. One confessed everything, leaving it up to you whether to tell Isabella. The others hinged on your decision. If you told her, there was a letter explaining my actions to her, if you didn't there, was one just saying how much I loved her and about my pride in her and the woman she had become. I realized afterward that by leaving them it could be construed as a suicide note, that leaving the letters would be too much of a coincidence in the event of my death. I set them on fire and hoped to get away from here as quickly as I could. I was going to run away up to Canada and either live out my days there or, if I were brave enough, end my life there somehow. Either way, those are the punishments I levied on myself for my crimes. Death or exile. Please let me go." I held on to him and shook my head.

"She doesn't need me anymore, Edward, she has you. I know you care for her and I know you want her. I only asked you to remain chaste so she wouldn't be pressured. I wanted her to decide when to consummate her marriage. I had forced too many other rules and restrictions on her, she deserved to have the ultimate say in one so very important as losing her purity.

You've not only taken my place in her life but you've surpassed it in ways only a husband can. She doesn't need the added burden my presence will bring. If it is ever found out what I've done, what Billy and I did, it will lead to the authorities learning about Isabella's gin production. She could be jailed, you as well as an accomplice. Let me go without telling her and save yourselves the stress and worry."

He presented a very tempting offer and argument, carefully constructed in such a way as only a man of his legal calibre could. I thought about it for a moment, but I couldn't harm Bella in that way. I couldn't lie to her for the rest of our life and I resented Charles for asking this of me. For the first time in my adult life I asserted my authority and forced him to come with me to the kitchen, hoping to find Bella there.

He fought me the whole way but I would not be dissuaded or bullied into letting him go. As we neared the house, Bella stepped through the door, I guess to call me for lunch. She was wiping her hands dry with a cotton towel. Her hair was up and off of her neck and gathered at the back of her head. I hadn't ever seen her with her hair up. She looked so lovely, graceful and mature; much older than twenty. I was almost distracted, a fact which Charles noticed as he tried to wrench his arm away from my grasp again. I kept my hold as I marched him closer to his daughter. She was the smartest of the lot of us and would have final say in Charles' fate.

Bella cried out when she saw us and dropped her towel but did not leave the doorway. I was happy she was stunned into place for if she rushed at us to hug her father I fear he would have used the opportunity to escape.

As we drew nearer I could hear her speaking. She wasn't quite talking aloud, it was more like a soft chant. The same word over and over again - Charlie. I stopped walking for a moment and cocked my head to the side. Charles noticed. He looked at me with tears in his eyes again.

"She hasn't called me that in ages. I'd almost forgotten." I had only ever heard Bella refer to him as _Father_. I had no idea she had a pet name for him. I could feel a bit of my ire towards him lessen. He was her father and every stupid asinine thing he did was with her in mind. He killed the men who hurt her as a way to protect her. He plotted his own death to punish himself but also to free her from having him prosecuted or imprisoned. He knew of her illegal activities and did not turn her in. He certainly played a huge part in her ordeal, and well afterward may have caused her more pain but in his own way he tried to do right by her. I couldn't fault him for that. However, I would call him to task for keeping her in the dark. Bella deserved to know everything.

 **AN: A few hours late so you will have to forgive me. Many thanks to Beachcomberlc for her tireless editing. Thank you to IpsitaC77, Lunabev and JulieToo.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	51. Chapter 51

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 51

When we reached the doorway I loosened my hold so Bella could embrace her father. She fussed over him as one would a frightened child. I gave him a stern look to let him know if he ran from her I'd hunt him down. He acknowledged my harsh glare with a slight nod. I was happy he understood and didn't try anything.

Bella ushered us into the kitchen and arranged a plate of food and a strong coffee for Charles. I had to stop her from dashing upstairs to draw him a hot bath or fetch him a clean change of clothes. She asked after him over and over again until I had to stop her.

"Hush a moment, love. Charles has a long story to tell you. Please."

I made her sit beside me and held her hand as Charles told her everything, including a few facts he hadn't mentioned to me. He was able to recount the events in a much clearer fashion than he had with me. I gather, having already confessed once, the subsequent disclosure was smoother. Bella sat silent through it all, although her grip on my hand varied from gentle to crushing. She didn't cry as I thought she would. She didn't get angry which I had hoped would be her second emotion. She didn't seem to react at all. She just took in the information like a cloth absorbs a spill. I could see in her what Charles meant about his wife being stunned to inaction. It may possibly have been the sole trait Bella gained from her mother, for she had none of the petty jealousy or cruelty.

Slowly Bella came back to herself, blinking her eyes rapidly before clearing her throat to speak. She began to pepper Charles with questions, some of them the same as the ones in my head and many that I hadn't even thought of. Through her questions Charles repeated his story in a much easier-to-follow narrative.

Three men escaped from prison with the help of a guard. One of them formed a gang with an old accomplice and the mayor's nephew, then they learned of an operating still in town. They searched for it, broke in and tortured Bella for the location which Renee would not divulge. Charles and Billy interrupted them and killed one of them on the spot, then spent nearly two years hunting down the others. In the meantime, Billy and Charles made a pact to end their own lives as recompense for killing the criminals. When Billy's boat exploded, Charles survived and now he wants to run off somewhere to end his life and fulfill his promise.

By the time the retelling of the story was complete, Bella was on her feet, furiously pacing the room and fuming. If time and circumstances had been different, she would have made an exemplary lawyer. She was forthright and clear in her summation of the facts, she kept the witness, Charles, on point and succinct. She was a sight to behold, in her fashionable green dress and her hair piled high on her head. I could almost imagine her as a great politician leading a rally and winning over a crowd.

"I've spent more than the last year hiding myself, sheltering you from what happened, secreting around in the nighttime so you wouldn't find out I was making gin, dressing like a little girl, allowing you to keep me captive — all for nothing. You knew all along. You knew and you let me do it because it made you feel better. Everything I've done my whole life was for your benefit, Charlie. I can't believe I let you have that kind of power over me. A parent is supposed to sacrifice for their child, not the other way around. Do you see? So you finally see. I've started to shrug off your bonds and become my own person. I can't live like this any more, Father. Edward will allow me to go to college, perhaps university. He wants me to be me. He's never asked anything of me, even when he had every right to. I almost had to drag him into our marriage bed." She ranted, still pacing and never missing a step.

"I asked him to wait until you were ready, Isabella. I didn't want him to pressure you after everything you'd been through. I had only just learned all that had happened to you when I decided to arrange the marriage. When I forced the confession from Felix, that's when I found out the reasons behind the tattoo and about the still. I didn't know. I had no idea what your mother was up to. I thought she was happy with her life, her hobbies and her friends. She kept encouraging me to go fishing or spend time away so I could relax from the stress of my judicial work. I didn't see her for what she was, I took her at face value and she played me well. I'm sorry. You had to suffer so and I did everything wrong. I'm a fool and a coward." Charles hung his head. He seemed penitent but I wasn't completely convinced.

"You're an ass, Father. So much pain and torment could have been avoided if you hadn't insisted on infantilizing me. Or bullying Edward. It is only happy circumstance that the marriage you orchestrated became a successful one, and even then it was only in your absence that it did. I love you, Charlie, but you have lost my respect." Bella flung herself into her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. She was livid. The pair of them had only just scratched the surface of the troubles they shared.

 **AN: Thank you to Beachcomberlc for her hard work in the face of misbehaving Google docs. Thank you to JulieToo and Lunabev. And much love to IpsitaC77.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	52. Chapter 52

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 52

"One thing I don't understand; how could you get Billy to agree to suicide? Didn't he think of Jacob and the rest of his family? What it might do to them?" Bella refused to look at her father as she questioned him. Her head was turned to the side and she stared out the kitchen window.

"Billy has been sick for a long time now. The doctor said it was diabetes and that there wasn't much hope. Billy didn't want his family to have to take care of him for the rest of his life. He provided for Jacob so that when he's finished his tour of duty and leaves the navy, Jacob will have enough for a small house and to live comfortably. I've left him some money as well so he could set up that garage he had thought of. You know how much he enjoys tinkering with motors and machines. Emotions have been so very strained between the two of them since Sarah died. You know, they each blame the other for the accident that killed her. Neither of them were there the day she fell from that ladder and she had been asking them both to fix that part of the roof. They didn't speak for months; even after Jacob enlisted. Billy didn't want to have to burden Jacob further, have him resign his commission and play nurse to a sick old man."

Bella pursed her lips and turned to face Charles. She cocked one eyebrow and looked as irritated as I have ever seen from her. Charles stuttered a sigh and started to expand on his story.

"The pact was Billy's idea. He couldn't live with what we had done. Even if it was for a good reason, we still committed the crime of taking a man's life. As well, we planned the death of two more. It was vigilante murder at best. He knew I wouldn't stop until everyone who had a hand in hurting you was punished. We sentenced them to death as sure as any court would. We were the court. I was judge. Billy the jury and together we were the executioners. It made sense to turn the tables on ourselves."

Bella became incensed and yelled at her father.

"You would have left me in that manner? Not even thought of what would become of me afterward? What if my marriage to Edward was not a success? What if, when he had fully regained his strength, he decided to start beating me? What if I had children; you would walk away from all of that without a second glance. Did you think of me at all when you lowered judgement upon yourself? Do you ever keep me in consideration for anything you do? Don't you think I would have liked to have known the men who brutalized me were dead and unable to return? Did you ever stop to think perhaps I would have liked to be a part of their demise? I was the one hurt, physically and mentally, Charlie. I was the one scarred and damaged for life. I was the one who's own mother bartered her life over a few quarts of really bad whisky and several pounds of copper tubing. Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe I wanted some kind of revenge as well?

'Damn it, Charlie. You are so blind. You see only what you want to see, and have for the entirety of my life. Mother hated me, you never saw that. She brought this upon us by running both her still and her mouth. She offered me up as sacrifice to save herself. I have to live the rest of my life with what she did to me. I couldn't seek my revenge with her but I could have with those men if you had only thought of me.

"Your intentions were sweet. I know you did what you did to protect me; to punish those who hurt me. However your methodology was flawed. Mother was the one who caused the most hurt. You decided I was too fragile to want my own vengeance just as you thought I was too friable to choose my own husband. Or possibly too damaged to be wanted by a man in the first place."

I was only just now beginning to see the hurt that had been inflicted on Bella. Not by the gang who marked her skin, but by the parents who should have protected her from harm. The scars she will carry from her own parents cut much deeper, bleed more and last longer than those inflicted by strangers.

Bella got up to pace again.

"I have no idea if your blindness extends further into your working life, but if it does then you have got to be the worst jurist ever. If Edward hadn't come along, would you and I be living in this house, playing out our charade and cloistered from the world until you died? Was that your plan? Well, then thank goodness for Edward, for he saved both of us. For I am sure eventually I would have over-medicated your evening glass of water just to escape on my own one day. You treat Edward as one would a pampered pet, your lap dog. It galls me, Charlie, that you don't see him for what he is. You think he is the bumbling fool to clean up your mess, with me as the biggest part of the mess, but he is not. Edward is everything you will never be. He is patient, kind and considerate. He makes no rush to judgement and allows me to truly be myself. The biggest difference, Father, Edward asks where you dictate. Edward listens as you lecture. His thoughts are of what I want, what I wish and what we can be together. Not what is best for me without my permission. That, to me, shows more intellect and maturity than I have ever seen from you." Bella in her anger and frustration, kicked the icebox making the bottles inside rattle.

"What would you have me do, Isabella? I was set to end my life for my crimes. No one knows where I am or that I didn't die on Billy's boat. I can leave and you'd never have to see me again. I can wander off into the forest. You tell me what to do." Charles begged his daughter.

 **AN: I am so happy to have the help of Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77 for this story and the friendship of Lunabev and JulieToo. As well as the kind words and smiles of everyone who reviewed. If you read and don't review, I adore you too.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	53. Chapter 53

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 53

Bella took only a few seconds to decide her father's fate.

"I can't live here anymore. I would not choose to live in this town any longer. Now that my still is defunct and I have money of my own, I would like to leave. With the spectre of what happened with Mother and now your faked death, I have to leave town. You have to leave me too, find your own way and let me live my life. Edward and I had already spoken of living elsewhere. There is the possibility of getting an education and maybe a career." Charles interrupted her and spoke to me as if she weren't mid-speech and in the room.

"You'd allow your wife to get an education and a job?" He scoffed.

"A woman is referred to as a bride for the first year of her marriage. After we celebrate our first anniversary she shall be referred to as my wife. But, to answer your question, yes I will allow my bride, my wife, my Bella to do whatever it is she wants to do."

I slowly pushed my chair back and stood, drawing myself to my full height. I looked down my nose at Charles and reached my hand out to Bella.

"If there is anyone who deserves an education it is my bride. If it will make her happy and keep her fulfilled then I will make it happen for her. She's not my housekeeper, my maid. No, she's my partner, my help-mate. If going to school and seeking a career is what she wants then who am I to stand in her way? She wouldn't stand in my way if I wanted to do anything. I'm only thankful she wants me to accompany her. We will decide our future together and i'is none of your regard. After watching you pervert the law, I have no interest in pursuing it any longer. We have discussed the possibility of my going back to school so I can teach law to people, not to distort it as you have." Bella gave my hand a squeeze so I lifted hers to place a kiss on the back. She pulled me down to sit beside her again. She addressed Charles, leaning toward him in her chair.

"I need to finally escape this prison you have made for me. Despite everything, I love you for you are my father and I do not want you to run off into the forest to die like a dog. As well, I don't want you imprisoned or even tried. I know as well as you that you are guilty however I feel your vengeance was justified and you are unlikely to kill again. There has to be some other solution. A solution that benefits all of us. However, I think it best if we were to part ways, Charlie. If you came with us there is always the possibility someone would find out who you are and what you've done. You would be making Edward and I accomplices to your crimes and thereby punishable. I think you need to move away somewhere and think about devoting your life to good."

"I may have not been the best father for most of your formative years but remember, everything I have done in the past while has been to protect you."

"But you see, Charlie, I'm sorry to say, it's too little and too late. I needed your protection years ago. I need Edward's now, and unfortunately, I need him to protect me from the harm that you might cause."

"You had best remember, Isabella, that I punished those who hurt you and kept you safe. I don't want to leave you now that you are secure." The tenor of Charles' voice changed to one slightly more combative. The difference set Bella on edge and I followed in suit. The resulting argument was very circular and repetitive, gaining volume over time. We fought, consoled, argued and debated the same points with no one really listening to the others.

So involved were we, we didn't heard the sound of Alice happily chugging up the drive, nor did we hear Jasper enter the kitchen. Really, it wasn't until he shouted for us to calm down that we noticed him at all.

Jasper didn't react to Charles' presence in the house. He wouldn't look at the man at all.

"They've found Billy's body well off shore. Once they've done their doctoring, or what have you, some police will come to speak with you, Isabella. I suggest you find a way to properly hide your father so he isn't carted off. I'd say you have a couple of hours at best." Jasper ambled to the coffee pot and checked for any remaining beverage. Finding none, he settled himself in a chair near the door.

"You! I thought I told you never to set foot on my property again." Charles yelled at Jasper.

"You did."

"Then what are you doing here?" Jasper's lack of fear or concern took the wind out of Charles' sails.

"I've come to help Isabella and save your sorry ass from prison. I heard some of your conversation. Made a few things fall into place for me. You know, for years I'd thought of taking my girl here and running off with her. Raising her as my own far from you and that bitch you married. I still kick myself from time to time that I never did. Would have saved so many of us a world of hurt. As much as it galls me, I may have a solution." Jasper looked from me to Bella and back again, still avoiding eye contact with Charles.

Charles huffed, but after a sharp look from Bella he kept his tongue.

"I've a friend with a boat he's looking to sell. He's tired of rum-running; his wallet is fat but he's no longer daring enough to continue. Buy his boat and set off."

"Where would he go?" Bella asked.

"Canada is out; they're more likely to send you back but the boat should get you to Newfoundland. Load up with as much of Bella's good gin as you can and bribe your way to shore. Hide out there for the rest of your life and leave Bella and Edward be for theirs. It's the best way to protect them." Jasper finally looked Charles dead in the eye as he spoke the last sentence.

Jasper out-layed a solid plan, covered every detail and help all of us see how it made sense. His connections would aid Charles in his planned disappearance. Jasper would be our liaison; all communication would go through him until it was safe. We could, after an amount of time, keep in touch with each other through letters. Charles didn't really want to be separated from his daughter but he knew it was the best for both of them. Their relationship had been irreparably damaged by his own hand and his exile was the best solution. Jasper would lead Charles to his new life and disappear himself. He claimed he was too old to continue working someone else's land and he wanted the freedom to be his own man until his death.

Charles nodded his head in resignation. Bella broke into tears. She made no sound.

Jasper and I helped Charles pack a few things, a change of clothes, a few mementos and as much currency as we could find in the house. Bella loaded a few crates of gin into Alice's boot.

Charles held his daughter tightly and sobbed on her shoulder until Jasper was able to pry him away. As a final act of freeing Bella, Charles produced to key to the front gate. The shrieking of the hinges was a horrible noise as the gate swung open and a fitting song for the end of this part of our lives.

Hand-in-hand, Bella and I walked back to the house.

 **AN: Just one more chapter to go. I'm going to miss this story.**

 **Thank you to Beachcomberlc for joining me in another tale and keeping me readable, on point and sane. Thank you to IpsitaC77 for being a lovely encouraging cheerleader. Thank you to JulieToo and Lunabev for being great friends. Psst, KatHat, thanks.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	54. Chapter 54

**No copyright infringement intended. The author neither profits nor claims any rights to the character's names or other proprietary property.**

Chapter 54

It took state authorities almost a full calendar year to declare Charles dead. There were depositions, hearings, inquiries and lots of legal bullshit to wade through. It solidified my wanting to leave the legal profession as a practitioner. Teaching the law was far more preferable an endeavour.

Two days after he and Jasper left, the police arrived with news about Billy Black. His family held a small service, inviting Bella and I to attend. Jacob was granted a leave and was there to bury his father and any ill will towards him.

Emmett easily sold off the last of Bella's stock, leaving a very nice nest egg for himself, his wife and future children. He was happy to be in the business, but even happier to be out of it. His portion of the family farm was producing very well, so now he had more time to devote to that. He was much more sombre when I met him next. He explained why he had laughed at me the first time he saw me. Under Isabella's tender care, I had gained some weight and muscle from moving jars for her. He said I seemed much more refined and mature now, where I struck him as juvenile before. He saw me more as an equal and someone worthy of his friend and to be his friend. He introduced me to his family, including his very sweet wife, Rosalie. He further helped us by moving, storing and selling the furniture of the last house on Blackberry Lane.

Bella and I moved in with Aunt Esme and Uncle Carlisle soon after the funeral for Billy. Neither of us wanted to stay there for a moment longer than we had to. There were far too many bad memories that outweighed the good. Bella finally got one of her life's wishes when we took up residence in one of the turret rooms. It wasn't nearly as colourful as she had thought it would be, but it was very lovely and our first child was conceived in that room. Isabella delivered in that room as well. I am still scarred from that experience so I'll not recount it for you.

Charlotte and Peter married happily and moved with us to upstate New York where Charlotte became our nanny, allowing Bella to attend university. It took over twelve years for her to earn her Master's degree in science, taking only a few courses at a stretch with plenty of time off to create a family. Together we had five children, two girls and three boys. Charlotte and Peter had three children of their own. We built them a guesthouse on our property with room enough for all those children to play. For a while it was tricky choosing the correct children to bring home at the end of the day. However, only once or twice the wrong one ended up spending the night.

We were very fortunate when the economic crash of 1929 happened and destroyed so many lives. Both my family funds and Bella's were well protected. We were able to keep the wolf from the door for all of the depression. We helped out as much as we could during those lean years.

None of our sons were of the correct age to enter the war against the Nazis or the Japanese. We insisted that all of Charlotte and Peter's children attend university, if they so chose, which kept all of our boys out of the conflict in Korea as well. We were very lucky in that regard.

I found teaching law much more favourable than practicing it, although I did take the bar exam in multiple states. Charles' slightly falsified clerkship in no way hampered my career.

We never saw Jasper again. Nor Alice. He kept her, with my permission. Bella gave him enough money, a retirement fund for dealing with Charlie, to pad the one he had saved for himself. Jasper was able to live as he pleased for the rest of his life. It took a great deal of convincing to get him to agree. There was a flurry of letters back and forth between the two for three years. I finally had to join in the argument and let Jasper know how much he was hurting Bella by refusing her. My letter to him sealed his fate and he found a small cottage by the sea to live his life in peaceful solitude.

Through a friend of Jasper's, we were able to keep contact with Charles. For safety's sake, we limited ourselves to a letter a year. Charles changed his name to Marcus and lived as a fisherman on the French island of Miquelon, just off the coast of Newfoundland. After prohibition was repealed, the island fell on hard times and Charles refused to accept any money from us. He died in 1935, penniless but happy. He had spent his life fishing and helping his fellow islanders for little to no pay. He lived a life of quiet respite, causing no further harm to anyone. He knew his daughter was well and cared for and that our first son carried his name. In each letter, without fail, he apologized for what he had done, never accepting Bella's reassurance. It made her sad that he lived with such guilt.

Bella thrived being away from that house. Once she was no longer putting her scientific mind to gin formulation, she made herself a paste to cover the bit of tattoo that showed above her clothing. She learned over time and with my encouragement of the beauty of the design on her skin, but explaining it to the busy bodies took too much time and effort. Society still looked down on a woman with a tattoo, regardless of the reason, so it was easier for her to cover it.

I managed to accompany her to see a reputable tattoo artist for her thirtieth birthday. He cleaned up the vine and added some pretty flowers to it. It was nowhere near as traumatizing an experience as I thought it might be. I feared she would relive the horrible night, but she sailed through it with a smile. The electric tattooing machine was much easier to bear. It was faster, too. The tattoo they applied on my chest hurt like a son of a bitch and I marvelled at her ability to sit through it twice. I'm ashamed to admit I cried when the needle first struck my skin, but the small, delicate looping signature of my wife's name will live with me forever. Bella didn't laugh, but held my hand and helped me through it. She has always been the stronger between the two of us, five births notwithstanding.

We lived a comfortable, happy life. We travelled, learned and loved through many years. We raised five content children who have given us many grandchildren. All in all our life, save for the beginning, has been wonderful.

The End

 **AN: Thank you for taking this journey with me. This story has been six months of my life and, while I have enjoyed it a great deal, I'm happy it is complete. Now I can work on other projects and maybe, just maybe you will join me there.**

 **As ever I am grateful to Beachcomberlc for her help, patience and expertise. I am thankful for the friendship of IpsitaC77 who makes lovely pictures from the tangled mess that is my brain. I am very thankful for the support of JulieToo and Lunabev, as well the lovely people in my facebook world.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


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